The Blood Queen
by tinuelena
Summary: Voldemort is dead. But a new terror has risen in the Wizarding world. Will Draco and Hermione, with some help, be able to eliminate the threat without losing their family? And what happens when Harry has to make a choice? Sequel to Innocent Insult.
1. Prologue

The Dark Lord has been vanquished.

The Blood Queen has risen.

After the downfall of Lord Voldemort, the wizarding world let out a breath they'd been holding for decades. The world, they thought, was safe; every Death Eater was dead or in Azkaban, and no Horcrux was left to bring the Dark Lord back to life.

Draco's demons had left him. No longer was he a pureblood fanatic with a penchant for dark magic; instead, he was settling into life as an Auror, a husband, and a father. Perhaps most comforting of all, he didn't have to worry about his parents corrupting young Alyssa, as his transformed mother had married Alastor Moody.

The inseparable trio who had caused so much upheaval in their days at Hogwarts had settled into peaceful lives. Harry and Hermione were both at Hogwarts; Harry taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, while Hermione presided over the school as the youngest Headmistress in history. Ron, meanwhile, worked under the new (and fair) Minister of Magic as the Junior Undersecretary.

Then, five years later, it happened. Azkaban's security failed, and the Death Eaters in captivity escaped, killing every guard in their path. Witches and wizards everywhere gripped the edges of the _Daily Prophet_ as they read the news. Everyone wondered: now that their Master is gone, what will the Death Eaters do? Some said they would do nothing. Others predicted that a new leader would emerge. Some argued with that theory, claiming that no one would ever match Voldemort's power nor genius; no one could even try.

But everyone's fears were realized the night of the Quidditch World Cup. As France's famous broom-ballet troupe twirled daintily in the air to celebrate their nation's team, a flash of light blinded the stadium. When the audience members' sight was regained, they were met with a terrible spectacle; everyone on the field had fallen dead. Spain's team; France's team; the dancers, which had included Gabrielle Delacour; they were all dead. Above the field, the glowing Dark Mark burned in the otherwise-peaceful night sky. And beside it, in fiery red letters, read the words:

_The Blood Queen has risen._


	2. Chapter 1

"Mrmph," groaned Hermione, burying her face in the pillow to shield herself from the onslaught of the morning sun. "Is it morning already?"

Yawning, Draco squinted at the window. "Yup."

Aggravated with the light still hitting her eyes, she pulled her pillow out from underneath her head and stuck it over her face. "Why did we move into a room on this side of the house again?"

Draco burrowed under the pillow beside her and waited until she opened her eyes. "Because if it wasn't for the sun, we'd never get out of bed."

"Are you kidding? Alyssa is a human alarm clock." Hermione paused. "Come to think about it, it's amazing she's still asleep right now."

He laid a kiss on her cheek. "It's probably because she was up all night waiting for an owl from Fleur's little sister about the World Cup."

"You know, I blame her Quidditch fanaticism completely on you and Harry. I expect the two of you will have her on the pitch by her next birthday."

"What makes you think we haven't got her practicing now?" said Draco with a smirk.

Hermione pelted him with her pillow. "Go close the curtains," she sighed. "I want more sleep."

"I bet you don't," he replied with a raised eyebrow, putting an arm around her.

She looked over at him. "Draco, it's so early..."

"Yeah... has that ever stopped you before?" Lightly, he traced the inside of her arm with his fingertips, lifting his eyes to her face.

"You're right," she replied, trailing her hand seductively up his leg. He held his breath expectantly. "I _should_ go put some tea on." Grinning, she swung her legs out of bed and ran out of the room.

"Hermione!" he called in exasperation, but he was laughing.

She smiled to herself as she put the kettle on the stove and sliced bread for toast. Glancing at the clock, she decided she'd wake Alyssa when breakfast was finished, and cracked a few eggs into a frying pan. Hermione loved her days off; it was late summer, and since school had not yet started, she got to enjoy late mornings. Most of the time, Draco wasn't there to greet her, as he was usually at the Ministry very early. So she had taken to making breakfast with Alyssa, showing her the right way to mix pancakes, fry eggs, and make tea. After that, Hermione would read to her, or they would explore the countryside together, or play in the front yard. On special days, they would visit Pomona Sprout, whom Hermione had become great friends with, and help her in her gardens. Alyssa even had a special spot all her own; the year she was born, Pomona had planted a small plot of lilies just for her. Everytime she came to the garden, it was the first place she ran.

The sound of harsh tapping at the window jarred Hermione from her thoughts. She looked to the window to see an impatient owl with the _Daily Prophet_ clamped in its beak perched on the windowsill. Smiling, she wiped her hands on her apron and let the owl in. She rummaged in the drawer for a Knut and paid the owl, who dropped the newspaper on the counter and promptly flew out the window.

_Draco and Alyssa will have their news now, _Hermione thought, as she quickly turned the eggs to keep them from over-cooking._ You know, it is odd that Gabrielle never sent an owl last night..._ _ah, well. She was probably too excited about her performance. _Turning back to the counter, she unfolded the paper.

Her jaw dropped as she read the headline. "MURDER AT WORLD CUP," the paper screamed at her. Below the large words was a picture, frighteningly like one she'd seen years before. The Dark Mark glowed menacingly over the giant arena, and ghastly letters spelled out a message: "_The Blood Queen has risen."_

Suddenly, arms embraced her, and she jumped. Turning around, the sight of Draco in his boxers with tired eyes and tousled hair met her as almost incongruous.

"I know I'm usually absent from the kitchen, but I didn't think my presence would shock you this much," Draco quipped, noting her shocked expression, but she didn't smile. "Hermione?"

She said nothing.

"Angel, is something wrong?" He took her into his arms.

Hermione could do nothing but give him the _Prophet._

Draco glanced over the headline and began to read the article out loud. "The Quidditch World Cup seems to be a hot spot for Dark witches and wizards to make their presence known. Ten years ago, the Dark Mark surfaced over the grounds to announce the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort. At the hands of Harry Potter, he met his demise, and the wizarding community thought their troubles were over. Now, this so-called Blood Queen has murdered all the members of both participating Cup teams and the famous French broom-ballet troupe, _Les Lutins Charmés._"

Hermione gasped. "Then Gabrielle...?"

A grim expression crossed Draco's face. "Dead."

She sank into a chair. "Alyssa will be devastated."

"I have to get to work," Draco said suddenly, turning to leave.

"It's Saturday!" Hermione reminded him. "You don't have work today..." She trailed off, knowing he had to go, but the last thing she wanted was for him to leave her after this had happened.

"Everyone will be in," he told her. "I'm sorry, angel." He gave her a quick kiss, dressed, and left.

The tea-kettle whistled anxiously as Hermione wondered how she would break the news to her daughter. Absently, she left the eggs in the pan and poured herself a cup of tea, settling down with the rest of the article. As the whites of the eggs slowly began to brown and crust, a knock sounded at the door.

On her guard, she drew her wand and approached the door. "Who's there?" she called.

"It's Harry."

Immediately, she unlocked the door and found Harry and Albus Potter standing on her doorstep.

"Ginny went in to work."

"Draco went as well," Hermione said, her eyes drifting toward Albus. He was shaking, nearly in tears, and Hermione threw a questioning glance at Harry.

"We Apparated," he told her simply.

Hermione nodded knowingly, and lifted Albus into the air. "Poor guy," she murmured. "Would you like to have some breakfast?" Without waiting for an answer, she carried him into the kitchen, leaving Harry to close the door.

"Alyssa awake yet?" Harry asked absently, pouring himself a cup of tea as Hermione sat Albus down on a chair.

"No... I don't know how I'm going to tell her yet," she sighed. "But I suppose I ought to wake her. I'm cooking some eggs," she added, "in case the two of you are hungry." She hurried down the hall and up the stairs.

Harry peered into the pan and was met with the sight of blackened eggs. "Maybe we ought to try again," he said, smiling at his son, and dumped the burned eggs in the trash. Puttering around the kitchen, he quickly put together a fast breakfast as Albus played with Crookshanks.

"Albus!" shrieked Alyssa as she came around the corner. "We got a new kitty... do you want to see?"

Albus jumped off his chair to follow his friend, but Harry stopped him. "You can see Astrid later," he promised, "but we're going to have breakfast first." Settling the kids into their chairs, he produced their fare. "Eggs in a basket," he announced, doling them out.

"Yummy!" Alyssa proclaimed. She bit into hers and grinned.

Hermione eased into a chair. "Thanks, Harry," she said. "I was a little frazzled, I guess."

"Understandable." He sat down next to her. "So. Who do you suppose it is?"

"Who who is?" Alyssa asked, her feet kicking the legs of her chair.

"Honey, this is adult stuff."

"Why can't I know? I'm almost six," she added hopefully.

Hermione gave her daughter a reproving look. "Alyssa, why don't you and Albus take your toast and go look for Astrid."

"But Astrid stays inside the house."

"Yes, I know."

"But Mommy, you and Daddy say never to eat anywhere else in the house..."

Hermione was exasperated. "We can bend the rule just this once," she said. "Now, go on."

Alyssa slid out of her chair, took Albus by the hand, and led him out of the room.

"My first thought was Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said slowly, glancing at the photo in the _Prophet._ "Her husband may not have made it out of Azkaban alive during the escape, but she did, and she's a lunatic."

Hermione nodded. "Quite possible."

"Who do you think it is?"

"Natalya Ivanakov was the name that came to my mind," Hermione told him gravely.

Harry looked at her in surprise over the rim of his teacup. "Who?"

"She was an ex-girlfriend of Viktor's. Huge into the Dark Arts, I guess. When she confessed her passion for the pureblood mania, Viktor got rid of her as fast as he could."

"That's no proof that she's a murderer," Harry pointed out.

"True, but she was in Karkaroff's high favor, and we all know what he was." She stared at him.

Just then, a familiar face popped up outside the window.

"Pig!" she exclaimed, and tugged at the window to let Ron's owl in. "What have you got for me?" Pigwidgeon dropped a scroll into her hand, which she unrolled at once.

_Hermione--_

_Have been up all night in meetings with the Minister. Urgent news to report-- you must come to my parents' house at once. The whole family is there, all but Ginny and Charlie-- and Fleur is in a fit, it would be great to have someone to help my mum comfort her. I know Draco is probably at the Ministry with Ginny, so bring Alyssa with you. I know she doesn't like to Side-along Apparate, so you can use a broom if you want-- you've got some time. Oh, and can you re-address this to Harry and send it along once you've finished? Errol is out to Romania to find Charlie._

_See you soon,_

_Ron_

She looked up at Harry. "Finish your toast," she said. "We've got to get along to Mrs. Weasley's."


	3. Chapter 2

"Oh, good," Mrs. Weasley said, "you're here." Her carrot-red hair was frazzled, and she looked beat. "Come in, dears."

Hermione shushed Alyssa, who was wailing at the top of her lungs after the Side-Along Apparation. The four of them stepped over the threshold and into the livingroom, where Fleur was wailing almost as loudly as Alyssa, and the chatter was overwhelming.

"Greetings, mate," Ron said, stepping over toward Harry.

"What happened at the Ministry?" was Harry's immediate question.

Ron sighed. "Well..."

"Ron, did the Minister say what he had in mind?" Mr. Weasley's arms were folded.

"Maybe this will boost our sales again," Fred said aside to George, who chuckled.

Mrs. Weasley threw up her hands. "Boys, this isn't a joke!" Shaking her head, she bent down to give cookies to Albus and Alyssa.

"Who said we were joking?" George protested.

"Dad, I said that I didn't have any definitive details to give you yet." Ron drained his teacup.

Bill was holding Fleur, who had collapsed into his arms. "Harry," he said levelly. "Do you know who it is?"

"I don't know anything," Harry told him. "I don't even know as much as you. Ron hasn't told me what happened at the Ministry."

"He hasn't told us any more than--" Bill was cut off by another fit from Fleur.

"My sister," she wailed, "gone... my _cherie_ Gabrielle..."

Bill moved his hand in soothing circles on her back. "Shh. We'll find the one who did this."

Hermione sat down next to Padma. "How's it going?"

Padma shook her head. "Dreadful," she lamented. "I haven't gotten any sleep at all. Ron left right after the incident happened-- the Minister called him in at once-- and I didn't feel like being alone, so I went to Parvati's. She obviously knew nothing yet, and I didn't know a whole lot, so we spent hours speculating. Then Ron showed up somewhere around sunrise, and told us what had happened. Ron and I immediately came here, and Parvati went to see Justin."

Ron sighed, flopping down on the other side of Padma. "Bloody hell," he sighed. "This is a nightmare."

"I see Percy's here," Hermione remarked.

"Bloody git," Ron muttered . "Mum goes out of her way to patch things up and he's still being a regular prat."

"He's pouting because Ron's Junior Undersecretary," Padma put in.

"Yeah," Hermione argued, "but he succeeded Umbridge..."

Ron shrugged. "Don't ask me to get into his brain. If it were up to me he wouldn't be here at all."

"Hey, Harry," Fred piped up. "They mention you in the article."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied. "Telling about how I killed Voldemort."

"No, not that article," said Fred. "There's one inside. It says: "Will Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, come forth in this hour of need? He has been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past five years. Will he now rise to the occasion and vanquish the Blood Queen as he defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort? Or will he take to hiding in his classroom, teaching students of his past exploits while refusing to face the dangers of the present day?"

"Sounds like a Rita Skeeter article," Hermione scoffed.

Harry's face turned red with rage. "I'm sick of this!" he yelled. "If I would have wanted to keep battling evil wizards and witches, I would have completed my training as an Auror. It's in Draco's hands. And Ginny's. And Cho's. Not mine." He sighed.

Mrs. Weasley put an arm around him. "You're going to be called on for the rest of your life, dear," she told him, handing him a cookie. "There's no way out of it."

Knowing she was right, Harry let out a puff of air and sank down onto the couch. "So what do we do?"

Ron stood. "The Minister wants to call on the Order," he said.

"But the Order has been disbanded since the fall of Voldemort," Hermione protested.

"Not technically," Mr. Weasley put in. "We didn't disband. We just stopped working."

"At any rate," Ron continued, "he wants the Aurors and the Order to work together..."

"Say _that_ five times fast," George whispered with a grin.

Fred looked back at him. "Aurors and the Order. Aurors and the Order."

"Boys!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

_"Anyway,"_ Ron said pointedly, "he's given me a letter to give to the current leader. The only thing is..."

"We don't really have a current leader," Mrs. Weasley completed.

"Right," Ron said.

Slowly, eyes began to turn toward Harry.

"No," he said flatly. "I've had enough honor and leadership for my whole life. It's someone else's turn."

"In which case, I vote on Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said.

She looked up, shocked. "What?"

"That's a fine choice," Fred agreed.

"Fine choice," George echoed.

"What? Why me?" She was still shell-shocked.

"Face it," Harry spoke up, "you're organized. You're an incredibly skilled witch. And you know how to get things done."

Slowly, she felt her cheeks begin to flush. "Well..."

"Oh, go on, Hermione," Ron said, smiling. "You know you deserve it."

She was glowing with pride, trying to hide her grin. "Alright."

"Then it's settled," Ron said, and handed over the scroll.

Hermione unrolled it.

_Esteemed Head of the Order--_

_Ron must have told you that I hope to have your organization fighting on our side against this new evil. I understand that you have suffered great losses through both death and retirement, but I hope that you can convince some to come out of retirement and still others to join you. Here is a list of some individuals I think would be of great service to the Order. Please consider extending membership to them. I realize some of them are in the service of the Aurors already, but Aurors have been in your service before. _

_Neville Longbottom_

_Draco Malfoy_

_William (Bill) Weasley_

_Ginevra (Ginny) Potter_

_Fred Weasley_

_George Weasley_

_Padma Patil-Weasley_

_Percy Weasley_

_I hope to be able to meet with you soon to discuss options for fighting this new menace. You may contact me directly, or through Ron._

_Yours,_

_James Button_

_Minister of Magic_

"Ginny'd be right sore at that Button fellow if she were here," Bill said, laughing.

"Why's that?" Padma wanted to know.

Harry grinned. "She hates being called Ginevra."

Laughing, Hermione re-rolled the scroll. "I wonder how the Minister even got her real name. She doesn't go around blabbing it."

Mrs. Weasley looked quite flustered.

"Why do they want so many Aurors in the Order, I wonder?" mused George.

"Spy on us, o'course," Fred scoffed, throwing a reproachful glance in Percy's direction. "Maybe Umbridge left a spell in her old office..."

"Fred..." Mrs. Weasley's voice was shrill.

Percy screwed up his face. "Obviously you don't want me in and, truthfully, I much prefer my job at the Ministry to remain my _sole_ job."

Mrs. Weasley's face fell, and she turned to Fred.

"Well we're in," Fred affirmed, putting an arm around his twin brother.

Padma nodded. "Me too."

"And me," Bill said.

Harry sighed. "I'll talk to Ginny tonight. We can fly out to see Neville."

"And I'll talk to Draco," Hermione said. "Then it's settled."

"No it is not," Fleur said airily, springing to her feet and flicking the tears from her eyes. "My _cherie_ Gabrielle is dead. I want to be included in this."

Hermione turned a slight shade of green and looked across at Mrs. Weasley.

"You're in charge now, dear," she said delicately.

Fleur stared icily at Hermione as she contemplated. "Come with Bill to the first meeting," she decided at last. "The Order can vote on it then."


	4. Chapter 3

"It's been so long," Hermione said, stepping over the dusty threshold of 12 Grimmauld Place. She picked up a skein of wool from a table and laughed. "Should I knit a few elf hats while I'm here?" she jested, turning to Ron.

He rolled his eyes. "Put the yarn down, Hermione."

She pelted him on the arm with it, laughing, as they headed into the kitchen.

Harry, meanwhile, dragged his feet through the thick dust that carpeted the once-shining walnut floor. "I hate this place," he groused, remembering how Sirius was held prisoner in his own home. "I thought I'd never have to come back here."

Ginny clung to his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. "I think he would have wanted you to keep using this place as a meeting house for us," she said. "He gave you this house so we would have somewhere secret to meet, somewhere that we could plan to defend ourselves and defeat our enemies."

Harry stared straight ahead, not saying another word.

In the kitchen, Hermione stood on her tiptoes to reach a few of the glasses from the highest shelf. At seeing the dust that covered them, she wrinkled her nose, bringing them to the sink.

"See, now, if Kreacher was here you could order him to clean them, and-- AAH!" Ron jumped backwards as a spider fell out of one of the overturned glasses.

"Oh relax," Hermione laughed, rinsing the creature down the drain. "Do you really want Kreacher back, Ronald?"

"No," he admitted.

Draco let out an abbreviated laugh. "Kreacher."

"What about him?" Padma poured some butterbeer into the newly-washed mugs.

"He had Kreacher tail me in sixth year," Draco answered, nodding at Harry, who had just come into the kitchen.

"For good reason, too," Harry said grimly, remembering on what note the year had ended.

The smile faded from Draco's face, and the room fell silent.

"So," Padma said softly to Hermione, "who's watching Lily?"

"Albus and Lily are both at Pomona's," Hermione told her, grateful for the change of subject. "I suspect they're elbow-deep in dirt and earthworms by now."

Ginny laughed. "Let's just hope she doesn't have them working with mandrakes yet."

A few hours later, once everyone had arrived, the Order gathered around the dinner table with full mugs of butterbeer and glasses brimming with mead. Hermione looked around the room, unaware of what she was supposed to do.

"Well," she began shakily, "I guess the first order of business is to let everyone know that I have taken over... I mean, uh, I'm the new..."

"Hermione is now the Head of the Order," Ron announced.

Alastor Moody nodded. "Well done," he said. "Knew you'd turn out well, lass."

Hermione flushed. "Thank you. Now, the second thing on our agenda. Fleur Delacour-Weasley wishes to be admitted into the Order." She was self-conscious about her speech, hoping she didn't sound too pretentious.

Tonks looked at her. "Your sister was in the ballet troupe at the World Cup, wasn't she?"

Fleur nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Her multifaceted eyes seemed to glow teal with compassion. "It's hard to lose someone you're close to."

Harry hid his face behind his mug, and Ginny put a hand on his shoulder.

"I told Fleur we would vote," Hermione continued, "and I think it best we do it by secret ballot. Agreed?" There was a general murmur of agreement, and Hermione passed out small pieces of parchment. "Just write 'yes' if you're in favor of Fleur joining and 'no' if you're not," she instructed.

Fleur hung on Bill's arm anxiously as she watched the other members of the order scratch their votes down and hand them to Hermione. She counted them silently and looked across at Fleur. "You're in," she said simply.

A smile crossed Fleur's face. "Thank you," she said, and Hermione noted this as one of the few sincere things that had ever come out of the girl's mouth. "I will not let you down."

Hermione nodded. "Now, there's the business of figuring out the identity of this so-called Blood Queen. It could be someone we're aware of, but it could just as easily be some new young fanatic. Any ideas?"

"Bellatrix," Tonks spat, as if uttering a curse word. "She's the most obvious, isn't she?"

"She was the favorite of Voldemort," Harry recalled.

"And definitely one who would want to carry out his work." Ron took a drink of his butterbeer. "Say, didn't her husband die? In the Azkaban breakout?"

Tonks nodded. "Actually, Rodolphus and Rabastan are both dead. She's the only loony left."

In neat, compact print, Hermione wrote "Bellatrix Lestrange" on the top of a piece of parchment. "Other ideas?"

"Alecto Carrow," Alastor suggested.

"Who?" Bill wanted to know.

"She was a Death Eater," he explained. "Narcissa's told stories to me about these people, and from what I hear, this Carrow woman fits the bill. In a different way, mind you. Apparently she's a short and stocky little thing with a major inferiority complex, a glory-hunter. Maybe now that she doesn't have to live in the shadow of the Dark Lord, she's tryin' to make a name for herself."

Draco looked at Alastor, somewhat amused. "I knew Alecto," he began, "and if she's the Blood Queen, there's nothing to worry about."

Alastor looked sharply back at his stepson. "Don't you underestimate anyone 'round here, boy," he snapped.

Hermione added Alecto's name to the list and scanned the table. "Next?"

"Pansy," Draco said immediately.

Ron let out something between a snort and a giggle. "Pansy Parkinson?"

Despite himself, Harry even smiled a little bit. "She's delusional, Draco. Remember when she broke into your house a month before your wedding and tried turning Hermione into a tree frog?"

"Her delusion is what makes her dangerous," Draco contested. "She's completely unbalanced-- you never know what's going to come into her mind or what she's going to do next. And she's deep into the Dark Arts. She cited Bellatrix as an idol of hers at one time."

"Purebloods in her family all the way back, too," Hermione added bitterly. "Just the kind of person who would want to get rid of all the Muggle-borns."

Ron grinned. "Your ancestors must be rolling in their graves," he said to Draco.

Draco laughed. "Both my mother and me. There'll never be another pureblood Malfoy."

"I have another suggestion," Hermione said slowly, after adding Pansy to her list. "Natalya Ivanakov."

The whole room stared blankly at their leader. "Who?" Neville said, clearly confused.

"She is an ex-girlfriend of Viktor's," she said with a sigh. "In love with the Dark Arts. She was a favorite of Karkaroff's, went missing for days on end during school, and picked on anyone without a pureblood pedigree. Plus she was an exemplary student in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. _And_ she's an Animagus."

"What's her animal?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know."

"She sounds like a viable threat," Bill said, with a nod from his wife, and Hermione put her name down. "Any other ideas?" She gave them a moment to think. As soon as they started shaking their heads. she moved on.

"Alright. One more thing." She let out a long breath. "Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "That's right, I'd forgotten."

"Anyway, this Blood Queen fright could create some security issues at the castle." She fiddled with her quill. It was her first real challenge as Headmistress, and she was unsure how she would deal with it. She knew it wasn't real Order business, but she was hoping they could help her out.

"Security issues?" Neville exploded. "Do you remember what it was like when we were there and Voldemort was on the loose? This is going to be the same thing! People could die, Hermione!"

"I know," she said gravely. "I'm asking for help."

A hush fell over the room, and Neville lowered his eyes.

"Of course we'll help," Harry finally said. "It's getting late. Let's sleep on it and come back to it tomorrow."

"Agreed," Alastor growled, who generally got grouchy when tired.

"Okay," Hermione said. "I'll see you all tomorrow morning."

Draco and Hermione helped Mrs. Weasley clear the table, then went up to their room.

"This place is so creepy," Hermione sighed, kicking off her shoes and falling onto the soft bed. "I never did like it." She sat up, pulled off her socks, and flopped back down.

Draco nodded. "It's really dirty and dusty."

Laughing, Hermione rolled her eyes. "I cleaned this place for weeks!"

"Well you must be a horrible housemaid," Draco jested, and she threw a pillow at him. He caught it easily and sat down beside her. "So of the four, who do you think it might be?"

She sighed and rolled over onto her side. "Bellatrix is the most obvious choice," she began, playing with the fabric on her husband's jeans. "But I can't fight the feeling that it's some lesser witch. Some unknown that's going to come up on us by surprise."

"So which one of the unlikelies?"

"Natalya or Pansy," she said after a moment's thought. "From what I hear of Alecto, she's not a force to be reckoned with."

"Afraid of her own shadow," Draco affirmed. "But I didn't want to say it in front of Alastor."

"Yeah. I'm just preoccupied with Hogwarts. I can't imagine what would happen-- I mean, I remember Cedric, and I just..." She shuddered. "Voldemort murdered him, and he would have killed us all-- whoever this Blood Queen is obviously hates anyone who's not a pureblood, or who is a 'filthy little blood traitor' as Mrs. Black would say, or--" She paused. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to handle it. I'm nothing like Dumbledore. I'm not even anything like Professor McGonagall. I shouldn't have been appointed Headmistress. I just can't do it." She sighed.

"Hermione, you'll be fine," soothed Draco. "You're completely capable. You're strong, resourceful, and brilliant."

"I am not."

"You are, Hermione."

"Yeah." She closed her eyes, and felt Draco begin to unbutton her cardigan.

"Mmm," she murmured, smiling in spite of herself, and let him slip it off of her. Shivering in her tank top, she inched her way over to him as he pulled her skirt off and tossed it aside; she ducked under the blankets then, and Draco smiled at her. "It's not cold in here."

Hermione's teeth were shattering. "Come warm me up then."

Draco tossed his clothes into a pile on the floor and slid under the quilt. She pressed against him. "You're warm," she said, and pressed her nose into his chest.

He flinched. "You are cold," he said, gathering her into his arms.

Once she had stopped shivering, she smiled up at him. "I love you."

He felt for her hand beneath the blankets. On her fingers she wore her wedding band and the silver snake ring he had given her in their seventh year.

"I love you too."


	5. Chapter 4

On the edge of Hogsmeade sits a dilapidated old building, unused since the days villagers would hear bloodcurdling screams coming from the shaking walls. Over time, it was nicknamed the Shrieking Shack, and earned a reputation as the most haunted building in Britain. The Hogsmeade villagers avoided the building like the plague, afraid of what would happen if they got too close.

However, the real threat of Hogsmeade was a dirty little house on the north end of the village. No one assumed it was unused-- an angry-looking tabby cat could be seen stalking the grounds, owls frequently came and went, and the gaunt, bony face of an older woman appeared at the window now and then. Everyone assumed it was an old, reclusive witch who inhabited the house-- those who had seen her face might have thought twice about her harmlessness. But no one guessed who she really was.

The Blood Queen.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Your tea, Mistress," Kreacher croaked, his hands shaking so badly that he almost dropped the scratched silver tea-tray on which he was balancing her fare. Bellatrix coolly lifted the cup and brought it to her thin, chapped lips, then sat it down on the table beside her. Through narrowed eyes, she regarded the people who sat in the room with her, evaluating and judging.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were there, Draco's former thugs. They were thick, she knew, but were good with blunt force-- plus they held a vendetta against their former friend. Next came Pansy Parkinson, who had given way to delusion after losing Draco. Blaise Zabini followed, a loyal servant, but untrained. Peter Pettigrew was there, a pawn; Alecto and Amycus Carrow, who were so frightened by Bellatrix that they would do anything for her; Natalya Ivanakov, the most talented witch to graduate from Durmstrang in a century; and Antonin Dolohov and Evan Nott, sworn allies of anyone who was out to continue the Dark Lord's work, which was Bellatrix's plan.

Kreacher cowered in the corner as Bellatrix settled in her chair, bony fingers gripping the cherrywood arms. "You are here under my leadership because our Master has been vanquished," she began solidly, her cold eyes glittering. "He was brought down by great treachery. One of the traitors is already dead. Severus Snape foolishly sacrificed himself on the battlefield. The other traitor, as you well know, is Draco Malfoy."

At the very mention of his name, Crabbe twitched, remembering how this all started. He half wondered if Pansy was right-- if Hermione somehow did put Draco under the Imperius Curse or some sort of love spell in his chamber that first fatal day. If when Draco was trying to teach her a lesson, she enslaved him instead. Why else would he have turned?

"Draco," Bellatrix continued, as if the very utterance of the name made her sick, "betrayed our Master by revealing his location and bringing an army with him instead of just himself and the Mudblood girl. If not for him, I believe our Lord would still be in power."

Goyle spat on the floor. "Traitor," he growled. "Curse him."

"No," Bellatrix said. "Kill him."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered Death Eaters.

"Kill Draco," Bellatrix continued, "and kill his mother Narcissa, who betrayed the memory of our Master by leaving us and marrying our sworn enemy, Alastor Moody." She paused. "And kill Harry Potter, the murderer of our great Lord. But know this. I want them. I want to torture the fools into insanity and beyond. I want them to know pain like they never dreamed could exist. And I want to watch them die, begging at my feet for mercy."

"Yes," Natalya hissed, sounding almost like she was speaking Parseltongue. "Death." Her white-blonde hair shone brilliantly in the moonlight, and madness glowed behind her red eyes.

"Is she an albino?" Goyle said in a quick aside to Blaise.

Blaise nodded. "She tries to hide it. Don't make it seem like you notice."

Goyle looked across at her, and sure enough, she was glaring at him with a stare that could have frozen fire.

"What is your plan, Mistress?" asked Amycus.

"Hogwarts," she said shortly. "They are hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Potter is a teacher there, and Draco is to judge."

"Hermione Granger is the Headmistress," Pansy cut in. "She must die as well."

Bellatrix looked sharply at the pale-faced girl. "Your first job is to capture Potter and Draco," she snapped, "and then you can kill Granger."

Shamefacedly, Pansy nodded and looked away.

"We will enter through the Dark Forest," Bellatrix continued. "We have alliances with the centaurs and with other creatures. Fenrir Greyback, our great friend, will assist us. We will then find our way to the stadium and destroy those who have destroyed our Master."

"Mistress," Blaise spoke up, "have you heard that this year's Hogwarts champion is a Muggle-born?"

A wicked grin spread across the face of Bellatrix, and her eyes flickered with sadistic zeal. "I have," she said. "And we'll kill _her _just for sport."


	6. Chapter 5

So I accidentally uploaded a chapter of Innocent Insult. Sorry if there was any confusion and thanks to Blade Silver for catching my glaring error. 

Harry's scarlet-and-gold scarf flapped in the cold autumn wind as he overlooked the arena from the judges' stand. Below, the champions were only tiny dots as they prepared to draw straws for the beasts they would face. "I hope Allyn doesn't draw the Acromantula," he remarked. "She's terrified of them."

"Her parents and brother are here, aren't they?" Hermione scanned the crowd, searching for them. "There, in the sixth row."

"Yes, that's them."

"Great people," Hermione said conversationally. "Did I tell you, her father went to university with mine?"

"No." Harry was anxiously peering down at the platform on which the champions were standing, waiting to draw for the beasts they would face. "I hope they're all prepared well enough. We covered dangerous beasts in sixth year, but I don't know if I spent enough time on the subject for Allyn to absorb everything she needs to know for this--"

"She'll be fine," Hermione assured him.

"Yeah," Draco put in. "You weren't really all that prepared for your trials, yet you came out on top."

Harry looked at him levelly. "That's because Crouch set it up all along."

Not able to disagree with that, Draco sat back in his chair.

Nikolai was the first to draw, and red sparks came out of the top of his straw.

Minister Button placed his wand to his voicebox. "Mr. Petrov will face the Acromantula!"

The Beauxbatons champion, Jocelyne LeBlanc, was next to draw. Blue sparks came out of her wand, and it was announced that she would face the Occamy. And--

"Therefore, Miss Emerson will face the Graphorn!"

Harry drew in a breath and caught a glimpse of Allyn's parents gripping hands.

"She'll be fine," repeated Hermione. "Hey. At least she didn't have Hagrid for Care of Magical Creatures."

Despite himself, Harry grinned as Nikolai stepped out into the arena.

Nikolai easily immobilized his Acromantula within a single minute. He exited the arena with boos and jeers from all four houses, but with his golden egg in hand and a perfect score from every judge.

Upon entering the arena, Jocelyne was immediately attacked by the Occamy she was to face. It had adopted the golden egg as its own, creating a small makeshift nest. The beast squawked at her, beating its giant wings, slashing at her with its talons-- she was cut and beaten down until she released from her wand a flock of birds. The Occamy began to feed, and she was able to slip through and steal the egg from the great serpent. Cut and bleeding, she exited victoriously-- as Madame Pomfrey carted her to the hospital wing, she clasped her egg closely as her worried parents followed closely behind.

Then it was Allyn's turn. She fired a rapid series of curses at the Graphorn, all of which were repelled by its tough and unique skin. Thinking her wand was useless, she turned to her speed and her smarts, darting between the legs of the beast and snatching the egg, then dashing out of the arena before she got mauled. Her parents and brother immediately ran down to congratulate her, looking expectantly up at the judges' tower.

Hermione stood and delicately touched her wand to her neck. "We have decided to deduct one point from Miss Emerson's otherwise perfect score. Though she did complete her task, she did so without the use of magic."

All four Hogwarts houses erupted in a chorus of boos, but there was one voice that rose above the rest.

"That's because she's a Mudblood."

A hush fell over the crowd as a throng of cloaked figures emerged.

Hermione stood. "So it is you."

Bellatrix sneered back at her. "Of course it's me," she snarled. "Who else holds more sway? All I have to do is this--" she snapped her fingers.

Four Death Eaters turned immediately on Allyn and her family. _"Avada Kedavra!"_ they shrieked in wraithlike voices, and the Hogwarts champion and her family dropped dead onto the cold ground.

"--and people die." Bellatrix smiled with satisfaction.

"Heartless bitch!" spat Draco, drawing his wand.

Swift as the wind, Bellatrix's wand was drawn and aimed at her nephew. "What a convenient coincidence," she crowed. "Three of the people I'd love to see dead, right here in front of me."

Hermione drew in a breath. Her first instinct was to reach for Draco's hand, and they came together like magnets as they stared his aunt down.

"Which one to torture first," she pondered with glittering eyes, drawing a line from Draco to Hermione to Harry with her wand.

"Save us," whispered Hermione. Her free hand fumbled in her robes for her wand.

Bellatrix decided on Draco. "Let's go with the traitor first," was her scathing remark, and she lifted her wand.

At the exact moment she opened her mouth to put the Cruciatus Curse on Draco, Harry leapt to his feet, wand drawn. _"Contego!"_ he cried, and Bellatrix's curse was repelled, hitting Amycus Carrow. He dropped to the ground and fell into spasms. "Please!" he cried.

Bellatrix stared in amazement, ignoring the pain and pleading cries of her minion as he jerked and shook on the ground at her feet. "What is this?"

Alecto freed Amycus from the curse, and he struggled to his feet, sobbing.

Harry smirked. "You don't think that I've been at rest these past years, do you? I may not be fighting your dead and pathetic master, but I have learned to keep a good repertoire of defensive spells. And in that spirit, I've created some of my own."

She was seething. _"Avada Kedavra!"_ she shrieked, firing her wand at Harry.

Harry coolly brushed off the curse with another yell of _"Contego!"_ and Amycus, who was just beginning to regain his senses, was hit with the rebound and fell dead onto the grass.

Her eyes were wild-- unaware of what to do, she vanished into thin air with a loud crack. The Death Eaters followed their Queen, and the arena was silent.

Hermione turned to Harry, round-eyed and frightened. "Harry."

"What?"

"She-- they-- just Disapparated."

"Yeah?"

Draco understood immediately. "Hogwarts school grounds. No one is supposed to be able to Disapparate or Apparate on these grounds, remember?"

Harry drew in a breath. "Oh, no."

They looked out over the frosty grounds and into the Dark Forest, where the howls of a wolf pierced the melancholy air. "Hogwarts students," Hermione announced, "follow your prefects back to your dormitories immediately. Guests and students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, please follow me into the Great Hall." She hurried down to the ground and briskly walked toward the castle, leaving the others to catch up. Draco walked by her, admiring how calm she was able to remain in situations like this.

But behind her cool and composed surface, Hermione was a mess. _I can't fix things like Dumbledore could, _she thought. _Hogwarts is not safe._


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you to all of my readers who keep responding! I love you guys! The action is going to escalate soon... watch for the next chapter... :)

xx

"What am I going to do?" Hermione paced the livingroom. "Dumbledore's old defense is still on that castle, and if it's not working anymore, I don't know what I can do that will make it any safer!"

"We'll think of something," Draco replied. "Look, Harry's been working on defense spells all this time, and we never knew about it. He'll be able to help us out. We'll just have to create new security measures. Better ones."

"We're not the kind of wizards that Dumbledore was," Hermione sighed. "I never imagined his protection could fail."

Draco sank into an armchair. "Hermione, remember that I once fought for the other side. I know their weaknesses. I know what they know."

Hermione nodded. "I know. I know you'll be a great help. But-- oh God. I can't even think of what's going to happen." She paused, twisting her hands together anxiously.

"Did you get the upstairs?" asked Draco, filling in the silence.

Hermione nodded her head. "I put all the defense and anti-entry charms I could think of on this house," she sighed. "But if they can get past Hogwarts security, well--" Exhausted, she flopped down onto the couch. "Draco, what am I going to do?"

"It's late," Draco told her. "You should sleep. And start worrying again in the morning."

She shook her head. "I can't sleep."

"You have to, or else you won't be able to focus when you need to tomorrow," Draco protested. "Come on, angel. Let's sleep."

"Fine," Hermione sighed.

Alyssa came thundering down the stairs then, clutching her teddy bear for dear life. "Daddy!" she screamed, running into his arms. "Daddy, there are black ghosts outside my window!" She burst into hysterical tears.

Draco hugged his daughter tightly and looked over her head at his wife.

"Dementors," Hermione whispered.

Draco nodded. "Alyssa, honey, will you stay here while your mommy and I go upstairs?"

"No!" she cried, clinging tighter.

"Mommy and I have to go to your room to get rid of them," he explained.

"Then I'm coming with you," she said in a small but resolute voice.

Draco lifted her onto his hip, and she gripped her teddy in her tiny fist as they ascended the stairs. Hermione entered first, wand at the ready, and tiptoed into Alyssa's room. Sure enough, two misty Dementors floated outside Alyssa's window.

Immediately, Hermione directed her wand toward the window. _"Expecto patronum!"_ she shouted, but her Patronus bounced off the window. "Why won't it work?" she cried desperately.

"We're going to have to open the window," Draco said gravely.

"No!" shrieked Alyssa, burying her face in her father's shoulder. "They'll get in, they'll get in!"

"We won't let them get you," Draco told his daughter.

Hermione tentatively approached the window and touched her fingers to the lock. "Ready?" She looked across at her husband.

Draco held Alyssa tight and nodded.

As the window swung open, the Dementors glided swiftly in. One turned to Hermione, and before anything could happen, Draco conjured his Patronus-- a fierce, sharp-fanged serpent. As Alyssa's high-pitched scream erupted in his ear, he closed his eyes to concentrate. Hermione fell to the ground and closed her eyes, as if she could hide from the seething wraiths.

"Mommy!" Alyssa shrieked, and then gave a horrible choking gasp as one Dementor fought to perform the Kiss on her. Hermione's head spun, and she seemed to hear a hollow cry from Draco-- she tried to respond, but a veil of black passed over her eyes, and she heard no more.

xx

"Mommy," Alyssa's voice begged, "wake up!" She knelt at her mother's side, pushing on her shoulder. "Please?"

Hermione's eyelids fluttered, and she looked up to see two wide, frightened, tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, "I'm okay. I'm fine. See?" She struggled to sit up, and embraced Alyssa, who burst into tears.

Draco came into the room then. "Here," he offered, kneeling at her side. "Tea and a biscuit?"

"Thank you," she said, taking the teacup with shaking hands. "What-- what happened?"

"They're gone," he replied. "One went for Alyssa, but I got him."

"When I was with Harry in our third year," she began, puzzled, "he conjured a Patronus that a dozen Dementors fed from."

Draco nodded. "I have as well," he said. "I think they're getting stronger."

"All our old defenses seem to be weakening," she lamented.

Alyssa smoothed a lock of hair from her mother's damp forehead. "It's okay, Mommy," she said. "We're protecting you." She laced her little fingers protectively into Hermione's.

Hermione smiled weakly. "Can we go to sleep?"

"I want to sleep in your room," Alyssa said.

"Of course." Draco stood. "I'll bring your mattress into our room, alright, honey?"

Alyssa nodded.

xx

An hour later, Alyssa was fast asleep on her mattress in the corner, and Draco and Hermione were still wide awake.

"Sleep," Draco whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

"I can't." She shifted uncomfortably.

He moved closer to her and enveloped her in his arms. "We're all safe," he said. "We're going to be okay. Just sleep, angel."

"I can't... there's too much stress..."

He brought a hand to her cheek and kissed her. "Turn on your side."

Hermione shifted again so that her back faced Draco, and he slipped his hand underneath her nightshirt, moving it in small, light circles on her back. "Sleep," he murmured softly. "Relax."

She yawned; her eyelids began to droop, and within minutes, she was out. Once Draco felt her breathing grow deep and calm, he carefully moved his hand and closed his eyes. He was drifting off when--

Hermione sat up in bed with a start. "What was that?" she whispered, clutching the blankets. She glanced quickly at Alyssa, who was still sound asleep.

"The doorbell," Draco told her, scrambling to his feet. He quickly threw on a pair of pajama pants and hurried out of the room, with Hermione on his heels in her bathrobe.

He looked out the peephole, then opened the door.

"Sorry for calling so late." It was Minister Button. "May I come in?"

Draco stepped aside, and the rain-soaked Minister stepped through the door and removed his hat and shoes. "Dreadful weather out there," he remarked, as if this visit was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Would you like to sit?" Hermione offered, pulling a chair out at the dining room table.

"Thank you," the Minister said, and settled down.

Hermione sat across from him. "To what do we owe this pleasure?" Her tone was somewhere between polite and sarcastic.

"You're going to have to address your students tomorrow," the Minister said. "Have you given any thought to what you might tell them?"

"God. No," Hermione sighed. "I've been so worried about the security issues that..."

"Tell them that the school will remain open," interrupted the Minister. "Hogwarts is a safe haven. It would be disastrous to send the students back to their homes. We will all be stronger and much safer if the Hogwarts students stay put. However, I think it would be best to send the visiting schools home."

Hermione nodded. "I agree. When I was in school and Voldemort was returning to power, well-- if the school had been closed, he just might have prevailed." The words of Bellatrix echoed in her mind. Yes, Draco and Harry had together caused the demise of the Dark Lord. And she, Hermione, had brought Draco into the light. The three of them were all in this together...

"Cancel classes tomorrow." The words of Minister Button brought her back to earth. "We need to meet and discuss what to do. Don't cancel the Triwizard Tournament, however. Announce that it is postponed until the capture of the Blood Queen."

Her head was spinning, but she was glad that someone else was making decisions. "Okay."

"I will send the owls," he said, and stood. "Sorry to pop in and out, but I must be off. There are others I need to call on tonight."

Hermione stood. "I will see you tomorrow," she said as Minister Button slipped back into his shoes.

"'Evening," he said and, putting on his hat, breezed out the door.


	8. Chapter 7

Thanks for the loyal few of you who are reading and responding! I appreciate your reviews so much.

xx

xx

"We can't leave the school open!" exclaimed Percy. "People have been killed here!" He glared pointedly at Harry. "Obviously, the old crackpot's defenses no longer work against the Dark forces."

Harry lunged at him, but Hermione and Kingsley caught him.

"I say we ought to leave it up to the Aurors to catch Bellatrix and send the children home," Percy persisted.

Hermione sat down at her desk. She had predicted that Percy would make this meeting impossible.

"We will work to catch them," Draco told him. "But it will be much easier to protect the students if they are all in one place."

"This castle is home to some people," Harry added. "Some of them have nowhere else to go."

"I agree that the castle should remain open," Minister Button said. "I know that Minerva appointed you Headmistress when she left, Hermione, and I have faith in that. He turned. "And in you, Rolanda."

Professor Hooch, now the Deputy Headmistress, nodded curtly. "Niceties are not for this moment."

"Have faith in Hermione," Ron urged, "not just Professor McGonagall's choice. She is the brightest witch I have ever known, and quite possibly the most capable Headmistress in school history."

Hermione blushed bright red. "Ronald."

He smiled at her. "I have faith in you, tiger."

Draco's lips flattened into a thin line. He knew that Ron's pet name for Hermione had been 'tiger,' a play on her love for cats and her fierce disposition when angered. Why was he using it now?

"I have plenty of faith in Hermione," the Minister said. "But stricter security measures must be put into place."

"No visits to Hogsmeade," Ron suggested.

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"And all students must be accompanied by a staff member..." Percy halted.

A smile crossed Hermione's lips, thinking of all the times she and Draco had violated that rule for a midnight rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower. "Yes," she said finally, "as much as I hated that policy, I see how it's necessary." She glanced briefly at Draco, who suppressed a grin.

"I also suggest that Dolores Umbridge be placed back into her old position as High Inquisitor--"

_"No,"_ Ron and Harry said at the same time.

"That woman is not setting foot in this castle ever again," Hermione said flatly, "whether the Ministry wants it or not."

"I quite agree," Minister Button said, casting an angry look at his Senior Undersecretary.

"The castle is still not safe," Percy muttered, shifting in his chair.

Harry straightened. "I've been working on new defense spells," he told them, "and I would be more than happy to figure out some new security spells and charms to secure this castle. I'll work day and night."

The Minister nodded. "Your word is good enough for me." He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"The Aurors will continue working to catch the Death Eaters," Kingsley put in.

"And the Order as well," added Hermione.

"Good," said Minister Button. "Voldemort was taken down by you when you were all seventh-years. Now you have a weaker enemy and you are all much stronger. This should be a feasible task-- life will be back to normal before we know it." He wore a cocky, satisfied smile, which left Hermione a bit unsettled.

"The one thing I have learned, Minister," Harry began, glancing at Percy, "is not to underestimate anyone."

xx

Later that night, Harry and Ginny sat in the Malfoys' livingroom, poring over stacks of books. Hermione was having the time of her life, her nose in _Magic's Latin Roots,_ a book about the linguistics of spells. Harry was taking notes from _Forgotten Charms,_ a book written by a wizard historian who dug up thousands of ancient spells, curses, and charms, some that were only partially known, some that were just rumored to have existed. Draco was torn between the long paragraphs in _Curses: Making and Breaking_ and his suspicion of Ron, and Ginny was idly flipping pages of _Fortress of Incantations,_ looking as though she'd rather be doing anything but this.

Ginny sighed and shut her book. "Hermione, mind if I make some coffee? I'm about to fall over."

"No, go ahead," Hermione told her.

"Thanks." She slid out of her spot and made her way down the hall to the kitchen.

"I need a break too," Draco said. "I'll go get us something to eat." He looked at Harry, whose stomach had been growling for the past ten minutes.

Harry laughed. "Thanks, mate."

"No problem."

Draco swept into the kitchen behind Ginny, who was setting up the coffeemaker. "Sick of the reading?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I thought I was finished when I graduated," she groaned. "I didn't join the Aurors to be a bookworm."

"Neither did I," Draco said with a laugh.

"Your wife seems to like it," remarked Ginny with a wink.

"You say this like it's a surprise to you," Draco told her. "I sometimes think she enjoys reading more than sex."

Ginny howled with laughter. "Draco!"

Draco shrugged, smirking. "C'mon, wouldn't you believe it?"

She poured the grinds in. "Sadly, yes."

"Yeah. I prefer action over words," Draco began, and then realized the pun as Ginny erupted in giggles.

"So you're not the talker, huh?"

He flushed, knowing very well that he was indeed the rhetorician in the bedroom.

"Oh," she said knowingly, covering her mouth with her hand. "I see." She winked at him.

"I'll get the biscuits," said Draco, and they both burst into laughter.

xx

"What was so funny in there?" Hermione asked when they came out of the kitchen. "You two are about as loud as Albus and Alyssa."

Draco looked around. "Where are they?" he asked. "I haven't heard crashes or shrieks for about an hour now."

"Alyssa has made Albus sit down and play dolls with her," Hermione answered. "Now what was so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," Ginny said airily. "We were just talking about how necessary action verbs are..."

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "Okay," she said. "Keep your secrets. Just pour me a cup of coffee."

Ginny did so, and Hermione sat back. "Did any of you see Hagrid today?"

Harry nodded. "Poor guy. He was really broken up."

"About what?" Ginny asked.

"Having to say goodbye to Madame Maxime," Harry told her. "I think he was planning to propose this year."

"Ohh," she said softly. "That's so sad..."

"I wonder," Hermione mused, "if he would leave his job at Hogwarts? Or would she come here?"

"She's the Headmistress of Beauxbatons," Draco said matter-of-factly. "He would have to go to France."

The room was silent for a moment.

"No more bad news for awhile," Ginny demanded, flipping her book open. "Let's get back to work."

"There are a lot of spells in here that end with 'tutamen,'" Harry observed. _"Domustutamen, agertutamen..."_

"A Latin suffix," Hermione observed, flipping pages furiously in her book. "Here it is. _Tutamen_ is Latin for 'defense.'"

Harry looked across at her. "Well, that's appropriate. What of the prefix?"

"Hogwarts?" suggested Ginny.

"No," Hermione said slowly, "we must not use the name of the place, because then the defense spell will hinge on the name."

"Then how about 'school? It's a school."

"That seems right," Draco said.

"The language of the spell must be precise," Hermione began, "and linked to the original purpose. Hogwarts was built to be both a school and a home. A safe haven. In the words of Godric Gryffindor--"

"A fortress," Harry said quietly.

Hermione turned to her book. _"Arx,"_ she pronounced. _"Arxtutamen."_

"Great-- we have an incantation now," said Draco. "So what does it do?"

"By tomorrow, it will create an invisible wall of solid protection," Harry told him, and rose. "Gin, we ought to get going. I want to finish the spell by morning."

She nodded. "Let's just collect our son first." She glided into the den and stopped, smiling fondly. Albus was stretched out on the couch, while Alyssa was curled up in a chair like a cat. They were both sound asleep.

"Look at that," she whispered, her face glowing. "Aren't they cute?"

Hermione nodded. "I wish we didn't have to wake them." Nevertheless, she scooped Alyssa up into her arms as Ginny gently shook her son awake.

"Bedtime, Mommy," he murmured sleepily, and Harry picked him up. "We're going home," he told his son. "You can go to bed in a few minutes."

Albus nodded and leaned his head on his father's shoulder. With a wave from Ginny, they took off.

xx

"Dobby wishes Winky would not drink so much!" The house-elf, decked out in the knobbly elf-clothes that Hermione had made so long ago, fought to pull a bottle from Winky's hands. "It is not good for her!"

Winky howled and jerked the bottle away, running to the other corner of the kitchens.

He sank down onto a barrel of flour. "Dobby wants to help her quit," he lamented. "She is going to wither away."

"She wishes to be with her Master," Kreacher told Dobby. "Kreacher knows how he feels, yes he does, Kreacher was made to serve the Potter brat and his kind, the filthy blood traitors..."

Dobby reached back and hit Kreacher hard. "Dobby will not let anyone talk that way about Harry Potter!"

Kreacher growled at him, muttering something under his breath that sounded like "dirty-bloods." He glared at Dobby. "If only Kreacher's Mistress were still alive, yes, Kreacher would be at her feet..."

Straightening himself, Dobby glared steadfastly at Kreacher. "The closest thing you have to a Mistress is a murderer," he spat.

"What does the filthy brat say?" Kreacher seethed.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Dobby said passionately, "she is the Blood Queen! Murderer, she is..."

Kreacher's face lit up. "Alive? Kreacher thought Bellatrix was killed in the Azkaban breakout..." He held his head up defiantly. "Kreacher's first Mistress is dead, but Mistress Lestrange is alive, and Kreacher is going to her!" He leapt for joy.

"Kreacher cannot go anywhere!" cried Dobby indignantly. "Kreacher belongs to Hogwarts!"

He stared at the poor innocent house-elf with rage in his eyes. "The Potter brat set Kreacher free," he told him. "Kreacher may go wherever he wants." His eyes glittering, he pulled a frying-pan from the wall and hit Dobby in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious. As the rest of the Hogwarts house-elves gathered around him, Kreacher ran to his precious box, which held all of his pilfered treasures. He drew out a small cherrywood box and opened it. Inside was a glass ball, drizzled with gold, encasing shimmering red dust. Satisfied that it was safe, he tucked it under his arm and ran.

xx

Kreacher reached the lair of Bellatrix Lestrange as the sun slipped behind the pines at the edge of Hogsmeade. He stopped in front of the dilapidated shack and sniffed the air. "Yes," he said out loud. "This must be the place." With shaking hands, he stood on his tiptoes and tapped the door with the brass knocker.

Bellatrix swung the door open wide. "Walburga's house-elf," she snarled. "What are you doing here?"

Filled with joy at seeing her, Kreacher fell to his knees. "Kreacher is here to serve you, Mistress," he pronounced, and bowed his head to kiss her boots. Disgusted, Bellatrix kicked at him. Kreacher looked up in surprise. "I have brought a gift," he said shakily, gingerly holding the box out to her. "It is from Kreacher's Mistress. She told Kreacher to give it to you if anything ever happened to her."

"Did she now," Bellatrix purred, and yanked the box from Kreacher's outstretched hand.

"Please, Mistress! Be careful, it is very fragile..."

"Shut up!" she growled, and opened the box. Her eyes grew wide as she saw what was inside. "Take this," she commanded, thrusting the box at Kreacher. He stumbled, and caught it before it hit the ground.

"Get in here," she instructed, and Kreacher scurried into the house. Bellatrix lifted the glass ball above her head, and smashed it authoritatively on the ground.

An eerie voice filled the room. "I am still alive, Bellatrix. It is our time."


	9. Chapter 8

The gentle light of sunrise filtered through the mottled window of Hermione's office. The young Headmistress sat poised at her desk, intently reading, while the shape of a stag lazily floated through the air and faded into the wall.

"They seem too pale." Hermione furrowed her brow. "Conjure one again. I have an idea."

Closing his eyes to picture Ginny holding Albus in her arms for the first time, he thrust his wand into the air and produced another shimmering Patronus.

_"Obstinatus!"_ said Hermione authoritatively, but nothing happened.

Harry let out a doleful sigh. "I hate this."

"Do you think they'll work on anything but Dementors?" Hermione mused.

"Dunno. But with the right incantation..." Harry sighed, flipping open _Magic's Latin Roots._

"It's useless," scoffed Phineas Nigellus from his portrait on the wall. "There's no point in trying."

"Shut up," Hermione snapped, glaring at him. "If Professor Dumbledore was here, I bet he'd have a thing or two to say to you..." She shifted her gaze to Dumbledore's portrait, where the old man rested peacefully on a velvet-upholstered divan. "But he isn't."

"Odd," remarked Harry, "that he never moves. The other portraits speak to us, and even if they pretend to be asleep all the time--" he glanced up at Armando Dippet-- "they at least move. It's almost as if-- he were somewhere else. Waiting. Maybe..." He trailed off.

Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm. "He's not coming back," she said gently.

He sighed. "I know."

Silence filled the room as the two went back to their books, listing possible incantations on pieces of parchment.

"I can't believe the wedding is coming up so soon," Hermione finally said.

A hint of a smile appeared on Harry's lips. "I wonder," he ventured, "if Tonks will refuse to be called by her real name during the ceremony."

"I wouldn't doubt it," laughed Hermione. "Even Remus calls her Tonks." She paused. "I hear she's planning to go with a deep purple for the wedding."

"Dress?"

"Hair."

Harry laughed. "Figures."

Tossing her hair to the side, Hermione flicked her wand into the air. _"Obstinatus Patronum!"_

A solid silver otter appeared in the air, reared up on its hind legs, and dissolved into mist.

"Better," Harry said approvingly.

"Now if we could just get it to stay."

"Yeah."

"So, did I tell you? The new defense system is working well," Hermione said with a bit of a smirk.

"How's that?"

"Fang was caught this morning."

Harry laughed. "Really."

"Hagrid had sent him into the Dark Forest for a nest of Withyfrog eggs-- apparently he wanted the second-years to watch them hatch-- and when he came back, he was caught in the ring."

"Was Hagrid angry?"

"Not really," Hermione told him. "He was a bit aggravated at the loss of his eggs-- Fang dropped the nest-- but he was getting a good chuckle out of it."

"That's good," said Harry with a smile. "Hagrid's not the kind of person you want angry at you."

"Doubt he'd ever be angry with you," Hermione remarked, rummaging in her desk drawer for a dictionary of spells. "You saved Madame Maxime, remember?"

Yes, Harry did remember. A year after Voldemort's demise, the Death Eaters were scattered across the continent in little factions. One such faction had attacked while Hagrid, Harry, and Ginny were showing Madame Maxime around Hogsmeade. They went right after the Headmistress with the Cruciatus Curse, and with a few quick flicks of his wand, Harry immobilized the Death Eaters and Ginny carted them off to Azkaban with a call to her Auror friends at the Ministry. It was the first time Harry had dealt with a Dark wizard after Voldemort-- and he thought it would be his last.

"I suppose," Harry said.

Hermione paused. "So how do you think Bellatrix is getting in?"

"Dark Forest. No question." His lips stretched into a thin line. "She'll be allied with the creatures in there-- Greyback, no doubt, is hiding within. And the centaurs."

"That makes sense." She glanced at her book. "I wonder," she said thoughtfully. She jabbed her wand at the air. _"Multiexpecto Patronum!"_

A magnificent, solid, glittering Patronus sailed from the tip of Hermione's wand. It sailed toward the wall-- Hermione held her breath-- and bounced off the portraits, rattling the wall.

Harry brightened. "Brilliant, Hermione!"

She grinned. "Well, we've got one. And just in time, too." She nodded at the clock. "You've got a class to teach."

"Second-years, too," he lamented. "We duelled yesterday."

"Is that why Harriet Tuller was in the hospital wing?"

Harry nodded. "Spikes growing out of her face, courtesy of Roger Beecher."

"Oh, goodness," laughed Hermione. "I do hope she's alright."

"She'll be fine. Hey-- do me a favor and send Hedwig out to report about your new Patronus, will you?"

"Of course. I'm glad you lent her to the Order. She's such an effective messenger-- I've never seen an owl fly so fast and find people so easily."

"Well, she needs to do her part just like the rest of us."

Hermione laughed as the door swung open in front of them. "Shall we give her a badge? I dare say--" She stopped short, staring at the ground.

"What?" Harry glanced down to see Mrs. Norris staring intently at them, her head cocked to one side. "What are you doing here?" he said crossly.

"That cat is so old, it's probably senile by now. Probably doesn't even know that it's outside my office."

Harry grinned. "Or it's as sick of Filch as the rest of us."

"Either way, you best get going."

"See you, Hermione."

Hermione waved and watched Harry turn the corner. "Shoo," she commanded the cat, and ungraciously shut the door in its face.

Mrs. Norris bristled, hissed at the door, and stalked away. Around the corner she went, following Harry's path at first, then peeling off and ducking down halls and through corridors. She came upon the front gate, gazing angrily at the shut doors, then leapt onto a table and squeezed out a window. Her fur shone in the setting sun as she scurried down the path and off the Hogwarts grounds.

As she reached the gate, she stared up into the sky, then shut her eyes.

With a loud _crack,_ she Disapparated into thin air.


	10. Chapter 9

The path leading up to Bellatrix's lair wound through the worst parts of Hogsmeade, beginning in the district of unused storefronts and climbing into the clumps of condemned buildings and ancient thatched houses, used as unofficial residences for disgraced witches and wizards, and hiding places for many a former Death Eater. It was this path that Mrs. Norris stalked with a mission, hastily making her way to the splintered front door of the Blood Queen.

Upon arrival, the cat looked long at the front of the house, her eyes lighting with a calm green fire. Her shadow began to grow and, seamlessly, she transformed into a straight-backed old woman, outfitted in a plum-colored dress and a peaked hat. The woman curled her fingers around her cherrywood staff as if she hadn't used them in ages, and rapped smartly at the door with the gold head.

Sounds came from within, and Bellatrix appeared at the door shortly thereafter.

"Why, if it isn't Walburga Black," she said with a crooked grin, as if she was not surprised in the least to see her. "It's been a long time."

Walburga examined her fingernails. "It has. I've been a cat for too long. Let me in-- I'm sure you have someone that will clean my hands and feet up for me."

At that exact moment, Kreacher appeared at the door, almost knocking Bellatrix over in his excitement. "Mistress!" he croaked shrilly, making an awkward bow. "Kreacher was afraid Mistress was dead. Kreacher is so glad to see Mistress alive!" He threw himself at her feet.

Bellatrix regarded him with annoyance and kicked him. "Get up," she spat. "You serve me now, not her."

Walburga said nothing. Kreacher looked forlornly at Bellatrix. "But Mistress never gave me away..."

"She passed you to Sirius, who passed you to the Potter brat, who gave you to Hogwarts. And then you came to me."

Kreacher cowered. "No-- you see, Harry Potter freed me, and so I am free to serve whomever I wish to." His voice was small and timid.

Seething, Bellatrix kicked him square in the stomach. "How dare you mention that name as if it has more power than my own! You're my servant, wretch."

Tearfully, Kreacher looked up at Walburga. "Mistress..."

Walburga looked coldly down at the creature, but said nothing.

"Come, Aunt." Bellatrix extended an arm to invite her inside, and the two women stepped over the mewling house-elf and into the sitting-room.

"Can we get some tea?" asked Walburga, settling herself into an upholstered armchair.

"Of course." Bellatrix glared at Kreacher. "You! Tea!"

Kreacher struggled to his feet, still clutching his stomach, and hobbled into the kitchen.

"So," Bellatrix began, leaning back, "it's been awhile. I'm sure you've heard about the death of Lucius and the treason of his wife and son?"

Walburga nodded. "I am in that school daily," she said. "Never thought I'd live to see the day that such a young, impertinent Mudblood would sit in the Headmistress' chair-- and be wedded to a son from my own house."

"Sad, isn't it," Bellatrix lamented. "Of course, if I have my way, there will be no more worrying about Muggle-borns."

Mrs. Black shrugged. "To eliminate the problem, you'd have to kill every Muggle on the earth."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. "You think that's not my plan?"

Walburga cocked her head. "My, but aren't we ambitious."

The kitchen door creaked open, and Kreacher brought the tea tray to the two witches. His hands shook as they removed their cups and added sugar. Bellatrix kicked him away, and he went whimpering back into the kitchen.

"I'm tired of these unworthy brats being taught magic," Bellatrix said coolly, sipping at her tea. "We, and our children, are the ones who deserve the knowledge. It is our birthright."

Walburga's eyes frosted over. "Except for my children," she said flatly. "Regulus may have started out on the right path, but he quickly strayed. And Sirius--" She paused. "There was never any hope for him."

Setting her teacup on its saucer, Bellatrix let out a small puff of air. "No need to dwell on the past, Aunt. Their treason is not your fault, and justice was served. They are dead." Another pause. "I killed Sirius myself, you know," she added, with a tone of self-satisfaction in her voice.

Walburga nodded. "He deserved no less."

"And now, there is the matter of my sister and her son." Her eyes flashed.

"Going to kill them too, are we?"

Bellatrix's lips flattened into a thin line. "They have shamed my family," she growled, "and for that they will suffer and die."

"Mmm." Walburga lazily brought her teacup to her lips.

"So what information do you have for me?" Bellatrix demanded.

"They're creating new defenses," Walburga told her. "Variations on the Patronus charm, new invisible walls for the grounds-- and according to the Mudblood and the Potter brat, something's off with the portrait of Dumbledore that hangs in the office."

Bellatrix cocked her head. "What's that?"

"The portrait doesn't move nor speak."

"Interesting."

"Oh-- and your niece is getting married this weekend."

A sneer crossed Bellatrix's face. "I don't have a niece."

"Indeed, I stake no claim to the brat either," Walburga agreed, clearly amused. "But the fact still is-- all the members of the Order will likely be at that wedding, including--"

"My wretch of a sister and her son," Bellatrix snarled, raising her wand. "The moment I see them--"

"Patience, niece. The witches and wizards at the wedding may be unworthy and dirty-blooded, but they are witches and wizards nonetheless."

Bellatrix glared at her aunt. "Point?"

"We will be severely outnumbered," Walburga told her. "We must lure them to us, not seek them out and attack them."

"And you have a plan?" Bellatrix shifted irritably.

"I've spent years hatching plans," said Walburga with a cryptic smile.


	11. Chapter 10

"Is she ready to go?" asked Draco as Hermione settled into a chair next to him. The sun was shining bright on the pavilion, and a faint cool wind was blowing.

Hermione glowed with pride. "She's a little angel," she sighed. "She's the most perfect flower girl ever."

"How about Tonks?"

"I didn't get to see her."

Draco shifted. "I'm dead curious."

Hermione laughed, then fell silent as a string quartet began to play. She and Draco turned at once to see Alyssa, dressed in a white tulle gown and crowned with a sparkling tiara, sprinkling Lily petals along the aisle.

She beamed as she passed her parents. "Look, Daddy," she whispered loudly. "I have petals!"

Draco smiled back at her, watching as she neared the altar.

"Wow," breathed Hermione.

Tearing his eyes from his adorable daughter, Draco turned to the back of the church. "Wow," he echoed.

Tonks was dressed in a gorgeous antique gown, made of ivory silk and adorned with delicate French lace and pearl beads. Her eyes stood out, rimmed with plum kohl and brushed with deep purple eyeshadow. A sun-kissed glow illuminated her cheeks, and her lips had been filled in with plum gloss. Her hair-- which was indeed a vibrant dark purple-- fell in soft curls to the middle of her back. At her throat was a large purple cameo, held in place by an ivory ribbon.

"She's beautiful," whispered Hermione.

"Yeah, she is."

Remus stood at the altar, his face glowing, lit by a brilliant smile, watching his fiancée approach.

"I've never seen him so happy," Hermione mused.

The guests fell silent as the ceremony began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."

xx

"I can't believe you two are married!" squealed Hermione, throwing her arms around Tonks. The reception was in full swing-- Mundungus Fletcher was making quite a spectacle of himself on the dancefloor, and Ginny could barely contain her laughter.

"What?" Tonks shouted, leaning closer.

"I said, I can't believe you're married!" The music was blasting throughout the hall, making the walls shake.

Tonks grinned. "Isn't it great?"

"And that dress was gorgeous," Minerva McGonagall chimed in. Tonks was now dressed in a black-and-purple wrap skirt and a purple tank top. "Whose was it?"

"My great-grandmother's," Tonks answered, "on my father's side."

Fred and George, laughing, ran to join the conversation. "So," Fred interrupted, "what are we to call you now?"

Tonks was puzzled. "What?"

"I said," Fred repeated, raising his voice, "what are we--"

"I heard you," Tonks said. "What do you mean?"

"Well," George said with a grin, "your first name is unspeakable and your last name is now Lupin."

Tonks laughed. "You'll call me what you always have, George Weasley."

With an overexaggerated bow, George turned to Minerva. "And Professor McGonagall, how wonderful to see you."

Minerva gave an amused smile. "And you too."

"You should come back to the Order," Fred said. "It's not the same without your never-ending discipline."

"It's true," George added. "You kept me from the mead so many times, I could have sworn you were my own mother."

"More like your grandmother," Minerva said. "I am much too old to return to the work of catching dark witches and wizards."

"Codswallop," Fred said. "Did I ever tell you that when I was in first-year I mistook you for a classmate?"

Minerva laughed. "Mister Weasley, you never fail to bring a smile."

Fred grinned. "It's my job, Professor-- someone's got to do it."

"If you want to convince me of my youth and ability to return, then join me for a dance," said she. "If, of course, Miss Johnson would not disapprove." She smiled brightly at Angelina, who had just linked her arm into Fred's.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Angelina told her, and Fred and Minerva made their way out onto the floor.

Ron joined Hermione. "I see my brother's romancing McGonagall," he laughed. "Angelina, aren't you going to stop this?" He took a sip of butterbeer. "Ah, well. At least he'll never be able to tease me about having to dance with her in fourth year again."

Tonks laughed. "Oh-- I see Narcissa and Alastor! I'm going to go say hello. Thanks for coming, you lot. It's good to have everyone here." She smiled and patted Hermione on the shoulder, then glided off.

"Look at your daughter!" a voice said, and Hermione turned to see Draco pointing at Alyssa.

The whole group burst out laughing. Alastor was busy teaching her how to do the Twist as his wife looked on, howling with laughter.

Hermione went immediately over to her in-laws. "You're quite the teacher," she said to Alastor with a smile.

Alastor grinned.

"Tonks, you were beautiful," Narcissa said immediately as her niece reached her.

"Thanks," she said, blushing. "I'm so glad you could come."

Suddenly, Fred spun right into the midst of them as the song ended. Minerva followed, laughing. "Now here," she said, pointing at Narcissa, "is who you should be asking."

Narcissa smiled. "Asking for what?"

"To join the Order of the Phoenix."

Her smile faded and she fell silent. "I feel honored that you'd think of me, Minerva, but I really don't think I'd be comfortable." She paused. "Some people still think I'm loyal to the Death Eaters, you know."

Alastor gimaced. "Blockheads, the lot of 'em. I'll turn 'em into... into... a bunch of ferrets," he said with a huff.

Laughing, Draco shook his head. "Oh, no. I remember when you did that to me in fourth year-- then again, it wasn't really you, was it?"

"I guess Crouch Junior must have studied my personality rather well," he chuckled.

"Papa," Alyssa whined, tugging at his jacket, "dancing!" She looked up at him with a big grin.

Alastor lifted her into the air. "Alright, Lissie. Let's go." He carried her out onto the floor, set her down, and began to teach her how to do the monkey. She squealed with delight as Ginny joined them, pulling Harry into the mix, and all four of them switched back to the Twist.

xx

"What a night," Hermione sighed, pulling her shawl off and throwing it in the chair. She sank down onto the couch.

"A good night," Draco said with a smile, sitting next to his wife.

Alyssa yawned. "Good night," she said to her dad, and curled up on the loveseat.

Draco laughed. "No, I meant that it was a good night tonight."

"Oh," she said, sitting up. She blinked and looked expectantly at her parents. Finally, she laid back down and closed her eyes. "I'm tired," she explained after a moment.

"Do you want to go to sleep, honey?" Hermione fixed her eyes on her daughter.

"No," Alyssa murmured sleepily. "I want to stay up and play with my dolls. I want Carrie to get married. I have a white dress for her. But I don't have a boy doll. Maybe I can cut Miss Marge's hair all off, and then she'll look like a boy doll, and then I can name her a different name..." She trailed off, heading into dreamland.

Hermione smiled, resting her head on Draco's shoulder. "Remember our wedding?"

He ran his fingers through her hair. "I remember you were more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen."

"Draco." She blushed, but she was pleased.

"You glided down the aisle to me like an angel." He caressed her face.

She tilted her head up to kiss him, and he wrapped her up in his arms. "You made me the happiest man on earth that day, Hermione."

They gazed at each other for a long time before either one spoke again.

"Let's put Alyssa to bed first," Draco whispered.

Quietly, Hermione rose from the couch and let him lift Alyssa delicately into his arms. He carried her into her room, settled her gently into her bed, and tenderly pulled her Puddlemere United blanket to her chin. Hermione smiled at her sleeping daughter, and Draco slipped his fingers into hers, gently leading her from the room and quietly closing the door behind them.

"Let's have another," Hermione sighed peacefully as they walked down the hall, squeezing Draco's hand.

He smiled. "We can certainly try," he said, and laid a kiss on her cheek as he opened the door to their bedroom.

Hermione untangled her fingers from her husband's and slid under the covers.

Draco joined her and wrapped his arms around her. "All day I've just been wanting to hold you."

She smiled. "Weddings do that."

"They were just so happy," he sighed. "Everytime I see two people look at each other like that, I'm reminded of how glad I am that I have you."

She softened. "Oh, Draco..."

Their lips met, pressing firmly and gently together, like a _priori incantatem _of lovers. In her mind's eye, Hermione could see past moments-- the secret meetings in the Astronomy Tower, the first times in Draco's house, their wedding night in Italy. She could see the snake ring he gave her, the engagement ring, the ring that was slipped onto her finger the day she said "I do." And as her hands traveled over the soft fabric of his worn undershirt, she drank in his warmth through her fingertips. She listened to their heartbeats rise together as cotton hit carpet and skin collided like symphonic fireworks, sweet and explosive. And slowly, slowly, she gave over to the beauty and perfection of it all, forgetting about Hogwarts, forgetting about Bellatrix, forgetting about everything.

She was loved. She was home.

She was safe.

xx

The next morning, Hermione awoke to the muted morning sunlight. Careful not to make a sound, she crept out of bed and made her way downstairs, deciding to surprise her husband and daughter with breakfast.

She puttered around the kitchen in her nightshirt and lounge pants, humming to herself as she mixed batter for pancakes and grated potatoes for hashbrowns.

As she cracked an egg into a skillet, she heard a thud upstairs, and smiled to herself. _Either Draco or Alyssa is awake,_ she thought. _Good-- they can come downstairs, and I won't have to go wake them._ She cracked another egg into a bowl and scrambled it for Alyssa, then went to the cupboard to look for food coloring. Lately Alyssa had gotten on a kick for eating strangely-colored foods. She had added blue to a batch of biscuits the other day, so Hermione selected green. _Green eggs and ham,_ she thought to herself with a smile. _I really ought to get her that-- she doesn't have enough Muggle books._

Footsteps thudded down the stairs, and the kitchen door swung open, crashing into a row of cupboards. Hermione was ready to turn and scold Alyssa, but she found herself facing a frazzled-looking Draco.

"Hermione," he said breathlessly, "Alyssa's gone."


	12. Chapter 11

-1Hermione stood flabbergasted for a moment. "What do you mean?" she asked dumbly.

"Alyssa's not in the house," Draco said. "I've looked everywhere. She's not here."

Behind her, the egg sizzled and burned in the pan as she held the spatula in her hand. "Have you checked everywhere?"

"I just said that I did," was Draco's impatient response. He rummaged through the door for a spare piece of parchment.

"What are you doing?"

He pulled a scrap from the drawer and began to scratch out a note. "Sending an Owl to the Ministry," he told her. "I'm putting in for the Aurors."

"But they just catch Dark wizards," Hermione protested, still in shock at the loss of her daughter. "How would they--"

"She didn't run away," said Draco irritably as he attached the little scroll to their owl and sent it out the window. "She was kidnapped. Who do you think is responsible for this? A Dark witch."

Hermione stared.

"Bellatrix," he said flatly. "She's trying to get to us."

"Oh, God," Hermione said, realizing for the first time the seriousness of the situation. "Oh, my baby..." She stopped short, turned off the stove, and looked directly at Draco. "Get dressed," she commanded. "We're going to Harry and Ginny's. They'll know how to help us."

Not more than ten minutes later, they were sitting in the Potters' livingroom, having toast and tea.

"I put in for the Aurors," Draco said, "but I doubt anyone but Kingsley is on duty today..."

Ginny nodded. "Pretty sure it's just him."

He rose. "I can't wait around for him," he said. "My daughter is out there, and Merlin knows what that sadistic beast is doing to her."

"Draco, you can't go alone," Ginny protested. "That's what she wants."

"Who says he's going alone?" snapped Hermione. "Alyssa's my daughter too."

Harry nodded. "And my goddaughter. Yours too, for that matter."

Ginny pursed her lips. "Well, you can't think that I would have imagined staying behind, but--"

At that instant, there was a knock on the door.

"I've got it," Hermione said, jumping up. She swung the door open wide and gasped; Ron and Cho Chang were standing on the doorstep.

"We heard," Cho told Hermione, immediately wrapping her in a hug. "And we think we know who it is. We've come to help you."

Draco clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Thanks, mate." He turned to Cho. "Thanks to both of you."

Cho nodded. "Let's get going," she said.

"Where?" Ginny pulled on a light jacket and grabbed her wand from the end table.

"Hogsmeade," answered Cho, and strode out the door.

A thorough search of the Hog's Head and the Three Broomsticks proved futile, as did every inquiry the companions made at the various shops in town. By the time the sky began to grow dim, they had taken to knocking on doors and asking the villagers for any information they may be able to provide on the Blood Queen or her minions. Since Draco, Ginny, and Cho were Aurors, the residents didn't seem to mind the interruptions. However, once they had reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, it looked like they were coming to a dead end.

"Just a few houses left," Cho said, jamming her hands in her pockets. She glanced forlornly down the dark street.

Hermione sank down on the step of an abandoned house. "My poor girl," she murmured, "trapped by herself with that lunatic of a woman... I can't bear to think what they could be doing to her." A single tear escaped her eye, and Draco sat down to comfort her.

Ron looked away, his eyes landing on the ground. There were a few animals scavenging for food near a garbage can-- a rather bony-looking squirrel was nibbling ravenously at a peanut shell, and a disheveled, scraggly rat with a long tail was poking its nose underneath a discarded banana peel. Suddenly, the rat poked its head out from under the peel and seemed to look right at Ron for a moment.

"No," Ron whispered, awed. "Can't be."

Harry turned to him, confused. "What?"

"It was Scabbers." Ron scrambled to his feet.

"Pettigrew?" Harry said, pulling his wand out and following him to the garbage cans.

Ron peered cautiously behind the old metal bins, searching. "I just saw him, Harry, I swear it. I--"

A flash of brown appeared that instant, and disappeared around the corner.

"That way!" shouted Ron, and chased the rat down the alley.

"Come on!" Harry yelled, and Draco and the girls took off after them. They sprinted down the alley, through a backyard garden that hadn't been de-gnomed in ages, and past a shut-up house that glowed a faint shade of purple.

"He went in there," Ron panted, gesturing to a dirty little house with a broken front stoop.

"Looks abandoned," Cho observed.

Ginny glared at the front door. "Looks can deceive," she said, and strode up to the front door. She rapped twice on the door.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to just knock on the front door?" Ron whispered.

Ginny turned to look at her. "We've been doing it the whole night, and she could have been hiding in any one of these houses. Myself, I'd rather just find the coward and get it over with."

"A coward, am I?" came a voice from behind her. She slowly turned her head, and found herself face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ginny gathered herself and squared her shoulders. "If you aren't, why are you hiding?"

Her eyes glittered. "Why don't you and your friends come in," she said, leaving the door open as she walked back into the house.

"Trap," mouthed Ron. His sister rolled her eyes at him and marched across the threshold with Hermione and Draco on her heels.

"Where is my daughter?" Hermione demanded, stepping up to Bellatrix as she lit a fire.

"She's in good hands," said Bellatrix silkily, grinning.

"Somehow I doubt that," she retorted, as Pansy Parkinson stepped into the room with Alyssa asleep in her arms, cooing at her.

"Poor girl, you Mudblood... you would have been pure if you were my daughter. Don't you worry, little flower; I'm searching for the spells. The tainted blood will be drained from your veins, and soon you'll pulse with mine... soon, when the love spells have been removed and your father and I are together again... my Mistress knows the blood spells, she knows the magic... little flower, sleep. I'll save you."

Draco had flown into a silent rage. "Give me my daughter, Pansy," he demanded.

Pansy brightened. "She's our daughter, love." Slowly, she drew her wand from her robes. "Let me free you."

"There's nothing to free me from," he told her. "I'm under no love spell."

She gave him a pitying smile. "Poor dragon," she cooed, "no one knows when they're under a love spell."

"You--"

_"Finite incantatem!" _yelped Pansy, flicking her wand at Draco.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks.

"Nothing happened," she said quietly to herself. "I don't get it..."

"Nothing happened because I'm not under a spell," Draco pressed. "You're delusional. Now give Alyssa to me." He held out his hands.

Pansy's expression of confusion twisted quickly into a jealous rage. "She should be mine!" she wailed, clutching Alyssa to her chest. "She is mine! You're trying to steal her from me!"

Bellatrix crowed with laughter, and Ginny turned on her.

_"Stupefy!" _she cried, and a jet of red light shot from her wand.

_"Ennervate!" _came a deep voice from the top of the stairs, and Ginny turned to see Theodore Nott.

_"Cruc--" _began Bellatrix, but Harry cut her off.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand, and she landed hard on the ground. Harry advanced on her.

_"Accio Wand!" _she growled.

"Why is it getting so cold?" Ron said, shuddering.

A silver swan-shaped Patronus erupted in the middle of the room above Cho, as she kicked at a cat that was biting at her ankles.

"Dementors!" Ginny yelped, and sent up another Patronus.

Bellatrix's cold eyes glittered as she surveyed the scene. "We _are _in for a night of fun," she crowed, and raised her wand.

Hermione, in a duel with Crabbe, hit the ground as a Dementor began to perform the Kiss on her. Ginny swiveled on her heel to draw the Dementor off, and Bellatrix took the opportunity.

_"Crucio!" _she shrieked, and her eyes grew big and greedy as she watched Ginny curl in pain on the floor.

_"Sectumsempra!" _bellowed Harry, and removed the curse from Ginny. "Are you okay?" he asked her, helping her to her feet.

"I think so," she replied, and turned to fire a Full-Body Bind at Peter Pettigrew, who had changed from a rat into his regular human form.

"Give her to me!" yelled Draco. "I'll hurt you if you make me, I swear it..."

"You love me," Pansy wailed, "you'd never hurt me..."

"This is your last chance!"

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _Hermione shouted, hurrying out from under Crabbe. She rolled over near Draco, who was raising his wand in attack.

"I'm holding our daughter-- you wouldn't hurt me."

Draco's eyes burned and he pointed his wand at her. _"Furnunculus!"_

Pansy twitched, dropping Alyssa-- Draco was there to catch her, and he held his crying daughter close to him. Pansy brought her hands to her face, which was now covered in painful boils.

"Daddy," wailed Alyssa, wrapping her little arms tightly around his neck. "Daddy, let's leave, please..."

Tears ran down Pansy's face, and she looked sadly at Draco, her heart breaking. "Draco..." she whispered, a blank expression on her face, thoroughly confused.

"We've got her!" Hermione shouted, as several more Dementors swept into the room. "Quick, before there are too many..." Draco nodded at her, and the three Malfoys Disapparated.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled, and vanished. Ginny stayed long enough to Stun Alecto, who was battling with Harry, then followed her brother.

"Cho!" Harry said, casting a Patronus. "Come on!"

Cho tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Get out of here, Harry," she shouted, firing a curse at Pansy. "I'm right behind you."

Harry bent his concentration on Disapparation. In the second before he disappeared, three voices sounded simultaneously.

_"Crucio!" _came the too-familiar voice of Bellatrix, and, right along with it, _"Sectumsempra!" _Nott and Zabini looked triumphant as blood spurted onto the floor and Cho collapsed.

Harry started to yell, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing in the Malfoys' livingroom.


	13. Chapter 12

-1"Alyssa, honey, it's alright now," Hermione whispered, scooping her daughter into her arms and wrapping her in a fleece throw. "You're safe now."

Draco sat at their side. "Alyssa, honey. Is there anything you want that will make you feel better? Should I get your Sara doll?"

"I want juice," she said simply.

"Okay, I'll get you some pumpkin juice." He rose. "And some tea for the rest of us." He left for the kitchen.

"You alright, mate?" Ron suddenly asked, noticing the horrified expression on Harry's face. "Why don't you sit down."

Ginny glanced around the room. "Where's Cho? Did she Apparate back to the Ministry?"

Harry shook his head.

"Where is she?" asked Hermione, looking up from Alyssa.

"I couldn't stop it," Harry said, thunderstruck. "They were torturing her when I Disapparated."

"Oh, no." Ginny let out a breath. "I have to get to the Ministry... Kingsley will help..." With a loud _crack,_ she vanished.

"Why couldn't you help?" Ron asked.

"I saw it in a flash just as I was Disapparating," Harry explained, "and I couldn't go back... Dementors were flooding the house, and there's an anti-Apparition charm on the house..." He paused. "Oh, God. What if..."

"What?" Hermione pressed.

"The Dementors," he said. "If Cho was defenseless... if they performed the Kiss..."

"Ginny just went for the Ministry," Ron comforted. "They'll be able to get her out."

"They'll play hell getting in there," Harry said, "and even if they do, they could be too late. You've never felt the Kiss before."

"It was bad enough when they were just in the same room," Ron admitted. "I can't imagine..." He trailed off.

Hermione remained silent, stroking her daughter's hair. She'd never seen Harry so upset. He stared off into the corner for a moment, and Ron exchanged a worried look with her.

"Harry..." Hermione began, but he jumped up suddenly.

"I have to go," he said abruptly. "I'll see you." And he was gone.

"Wonder where he's off to?" Ron ventured. "Ministry, you think, or back to Bellatrix's?"

Hermione thought it best to keep her suspicions silent. "Probably one of the two."

Ron nodded, and accepted the cup of tea that Draco handed him.

"Thank you, Daddy," Alyssa said politely as she took her cup of pumpkin juice.

"Where's Harry?" Draco asked.

"He left," Hermione told him. "We don't know where."

"Probably followed Ginny to make sure Cho was safe," Draco said, echoing Ron.

Ron took his tea in a gulp, then stood. "I'm going to get home," he yawned. "This has been a long day, and I'm sure Padma's wondering where I've gotten to."

"Thank you." Hermione smiled up at him.

"Anytime. See you, Draco."

Draco nodded at him, and Ron Disapparated.

Ruffling Alyssa's hair, Draco made a suggestion. "How about a few games of Crazy Eights before we all go to bed?"

Alyssa squealed. "Let's!" She wriggled off her mom's lap and ran to get a deck of cards.

Later that night, after Alyssa had won seven of ten Crazy Eights and Go Fish games and proclaimed herself grand champion of Muggle card games, Draco and Hermione lay down in bed, exhausted.

"Thank God we got her back," Hermione said.

"And that she wasn't hurt."

"I can't believe Pansy." She turned, resting her head on his shoulder. "She's really lost, isn't she?"

"Yeah." He shifted. "No doubt she's evil, but seeing her like that kind of makes you feel sorry for her, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I wonder if Bellatrix has put a memory charm on her to control her, or if she's really that delusional?"

Draco shrugged and wrapped his arms around Hermione. "I wouldn't be surprised either way. I'm just glad we're all okay."

"I don't feel safe here anymore," Hermione admitted. "If they could get to Alyssa before..."

"Harry and Ginny were talking about moving right into the castle," Draco said quietly.

Hermione nodded. "Maybe we ought to."

"Let's decide tomorrow. Right now, let's sleep."

She kissed him. "Good night."

"Good night, angel."


	14. Chapter 13

Harry Potter wandered the dark, damp streets of London with his hands jammed in his jacket pockets, thinking hard. Nothing made sense at the moment. The crescent moon seemed to smirk at him, as if the heavens were playing some evil trick.

_Too bad Firenze isn't here to read the stars for me, _he thought ruefully, even though he'd never been much for Divination. _I need some sort of direction._

He stopped in front of an old abandoned warehouse with a few beat-up mannequins in the windows. He stared at a male form dressed in a bowler hat and an old tweed suit for a full thirty seconds before realizing where exactly he was. Almost involuntarily, he leaned forward and spoke to the mannequin.

"Let me in."

Immediately, he found himself standing in St. Mungo's. He approached the desk.

"Cho Chang," he said.

The receptionist sent him with a young apprentice Healer to the fourth floor. His heart dropped as she led him into the Janus Thickey Ward. He knew that Neville Longbottom's parents were at the end of the row.

"I thought... isn't this..."

She turned and blinked at him with large, round eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. "I mean, I thought this ward was for long-term residents."

The apprentice put her hand on Harry's arm in a gesture of sympathy. "I'm sorry, but your friend probably will be. She's suffered extensive damage from the Cruciatus Curse, not to mention the Dementors."

They stopped in front of Cho's bed, and Harry sank into a chair. She was covered in bandages-- her skin, where visible, was covered in deep cuts.

"She's been a bit shaken up," the apprentice explained. "She just got to sleep about an hour ago. Perhaps it's good you're here-- she might warm to a familiar face." Gently, she pulled Cho's blanket up to her neck. "Call me if you need anything."

Harry nodded, unable to speak, and turned back to Cho. _I should have gone back,_ he thought angrily. _I could have done something. I could have stopped at least one of them._ He wiped a tear from his eye.

Suddenly, Cho stirred. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked directly at Harry.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Whatever Harry expected, it was not this. "It's Harry, Cho."

She blinked confusedly. "Who?"

"Harry Potter."

Cho was unfazed. "Oh. You look kind of familiar, but I guess I don't know you." She shivered underneath her thin blanket-- Harry felt the urge to cover her with another one from the folded stack, but he wasn't sure if she would let him.

"Oh!" she said abruptly. "I know where I know you from."

Harry's heart leapt. _She's improving already._

"I just had a dream about you," Cho told him.

"About me?"

"Yes. I was in this big castle. The walls were all frosted over and there were sculptures of ice everywhere, and music." She laughed, a bubbling little sound that was very unlike Cho.

_She almost seems possessed,_ thought Harry.

"I was with this tall boy," she continued, "and I think I liked him. He was very handsome. But you were there too." She paused, wrinkling her nose. "With some girl in a horrid orange dress."

_Cedric,_ Harry thought, his heart pounding. _Parvati. The Yule Ball. So she really _did_ like me then... even though..._

"I wanted to dance with you but something told me I couldn't," she finished. "So I stayed with the tall boy. But I really wanted to go with you."

Harry let out a breath. "Cho..."

"And then," she interrupted, "there was another dream." She stopped short and looked at him warily.

"What?" he prodded gently. "Tell me."

Cho shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Please?" Harry was dead curious.

She looked into his eyes, almost entranced. "You know, I was in a white park before I came here. Even the stems of the flowers were white. And the sun... the sun was very bright." She sounded almost like a little girl now, talking about fantasy lands and imaginary friends. "I met this lady who told me to go back." She stared at him. "She had eyes like yours."

Harry's breath caught, and he stared back at Cho in amazement. _Could she really have met my mother in heaven?_

"I suppose I will tell you," she said, jumping back to her dreams. "It was a Quidditch match. You were on the winning team, and you were celebrating. You gave one of your teammates a big hug... she had bright red hair."

_Ginny._

"I was wishing I was the red-haired girl," she said quietly. "I had this urge to be with you, but also to have you touch me..." Cho trailed off, lowering her head. "I was imagining how it would be if you were my first time. I wanted you to touch me everywhere. I wanted..." She stopped, turning a deep shade of scarlet. Her scars blended right in.

_That was the turning point,_ Harry thought to himself. _I couldn't stand it after that... I knew it was Ginny I wanted to be with right then... what if Cho had said something to me? What if... would I be with Ginny right now? Or would my wife be sitting in front of me? What..._

"What's your name again?" Cho said suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Harry," he said quietly.

"That's a nice name. It was nice of you to chat with me." She paused. "So who are you here to visit? My neighbors?" She nodded toward an empty room-- it was if she had not just shared her dreams.

A tear escaped Harry's eye, and his lips flattened into a line, thinking of what Bellatrix had done. Not only had she tortured Cho into insanity, she'd tortured Neville's parents into the same state, killed Sirius, kidnapped his goddaughter, tried to murder his friends, and continued the work of Voldemort. His insides burned with rage.

"You may not know me now, Cho," he said slowly, standing, "but you used to. You used to love me, if only for a few fleeting moments, in the past. And I swear to you that the woman who did this will die."

Cho smiled serenely as if she hadn't even heard him. "You're a nice man," she said vacantly, in a tune reminiscent of Luna Lovegood. "Will you come and visit me again?"

Harry softened. "Of course." And with one last look, he left.


	15. Chapter 14

"Fools," Bellatrix spat, kicking sharply at Pettigrew. "To let them get away... take the brat..."

Pansy sat in a chair, her eyes red. "My child."

"Oh, shut up," Bellatrix said dismissively. "Get out of here. Go find Natalya-- she can take a look at that face of yours." As Pansy left, Bellatrix stepped over to the fireplace and drew her toe over the blood-stained carpet. "At least," she said, "we got to have a little fun..."

"Ah," Walburga cackled, "quite right you are."

"Kreacher!" snapped Bellatrix. "Where are you?"

The house-elf Apparated into the room.

"Get this mess off my carpet," Bellatrix demanded. "And you best not think you're using Scourgify either," she added with a smirk.

"Y-yes, Mistress," he stammered. He vanished, then reappeared with a rag and began mopping up at once.

"Faster!" Bellatrix demanded, kicking at him. He fell to his knees with a whimper and began to scrub at top speed.

"Nice to have a slave around," Walburga commented, putting her feet up on a cushioned ottoman. "I don't know how you got along without one, Bella."

Bellatrix shrugged and sat primly in her chair. "We need a different way to go after them."

Brushing her hands on her skirt, Natalya entered. "She's going to be fine. She's just shaken."

"Understandable," Walburga said, "considering she was just abandoned by her imaginary family..." She fell apart in laughter.

Natalya smiled. "She's worth having around just for the entertainment, isn't she?"

"Quite." Walburga took a sip of wine.

"Like I was saying." Bellatrix glared at her two companions. "We need to figure out a different way to get to them."

"Kidnap the brat again," Walburga suggested. "No doubt they'll come running."

Bellatrix scoffed at her. "Stupid. The Ministry will have them all hidden by now."

"It's that bloody Order that's the problem," Walburga mused.

"We need to infiltrate it."

"Bella, that's impossible. I--"

"What about your portrait in Grimmauld Place?" Bellatrix interrupted.

"No good," Walburga said, shaking her head. "The Potter brat split it into four pieces and carried them off."

Bellatrix considered this for a moment. "Kreacher!" she snapped.

His head swiveled. "Yes?"

"I need a footrest."

Kreacher looked around desperately for an extra ottoman or footstool, but Bellatrix caught him by the nape of his neck. "You'll do fine." The house-elf grudgingly got on his hands and knees so she could put his feet up on his back.

"There's got to be some way--"

"I'll do it," Natalya piped up. She looked across at Bellatrix, whose eyes were like ice. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt." She hung her head.

"How?" Bellatrix demanded.

A sly grin spread across Natalya's smooth face. "You'll see," she said simply.


	16. Chapter 16

"Mum, honestly, I appreciate your cooking so much more now that I've left home..." Ron was helping himself to a huge mound of Mrs. Weasley's mashed potatoes and gravy and a heavily buttered dinner roll as the rest of the Order filled in around him, their plates heaped with food.

Mrs. Weasley patted him on the shoulder as she set a large bowl of corn on the table. "Tonks, can you give me a hand for a moment?"

Clad in brilliant tie-dyed robes with multicolored hair to match, Tonks rose from her seat and went to assist Mrs. Weasley in flipping a batch of rolls that she was bringing out of the oven. As they settled back down, Hermione called the meeting to order.

"Just... before we get started," Harry voiced, "Hermione-- anything on Filch's cat yet?"

Ron cocked his head. "What?"

"Filch's cat ran away," Hermione explained, "or according to Filch, was stolen. He's livid. But no," she continued, turning back to Harry, "nothing yet."

"That cat stalking around Bellatrix's house kind of looked like her," Draco put in, shrugging.

"I don't know how he can suspect theft," Hermione said, "what with all the new charms and defenses surrounding the castle--"

"Genius," Ginny remarked, positively beaming. "Harry, tell them about your latest."

Harry turned a faint shade of pink. "Really, it's nothing--"

"Oh, go on."

"I, uh, figured out how to combine the Anti-Disapparation Jinx and the Anti-Intruder Jinx with an automatic version of Expelliarmus. It's a concept similar to the Age Line that we use for the Triwizard Tournament-- once someone who has no authority to be inside the Hogwarts grounds steps foot over the line, their wand is thrown out of their possession and they are trapped in a sort of magical forcefield, if you will, until they are freed by a counter-curse, which will only be told to Hogwarts staff members. Furthermore, Polyjuice Potion cannot trick the line."

"Impressive," Lupin said, buttering a roll. "Can I tell people that I taught you everything you know?"

Harry smiled. "You were my best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, you know."

"I'd take offense to that," Alastor said, "but seeing as I wasn't exactly teaching you..."

Harry laughed.

"Oh!" Fred suddenly interjected. "Ron, we forgot to tell you. Guess what happened to Perfect Percy?"

George began to laugh, and his mother fired a sharp look at him. She turned to Fred. "Fred, this is no--"

"Got in a spat with Button while you were off to find Alyssa," Fred continued, ignoring his mother. "Said you ought to leave the Dark wizard-hunting to more talented wizards."

Ron's fingers curled into a fist. "What a bloody wanker," he began. "I swear--"

"Button stood up for you, 'course," George told him. "Sent him right off."

"Off? You mean--"

"Fired," Fred and George said brightly.

"Boys, I'm sure that Percy didn't mean that Ron was an incapable wizard," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "I'm sure--"

"Mum, what do you mean he didn't mean it?" exclaimed Ron. "He bloody said it!"

"Subject for another time," Hermione said quickly, wanting to avoid the oncoming argument. "But about Bellatrix-- now that we know where she's hiding, what should we do?"

"Kill her," Alastor Moody growled.

With great effort, Hermione managed to not roll her eyes. "Obviously we need to get rid of her," she agreed, choosing her words carefully. "Any ideas on a strategy?"

Harry had a flashback to Muggle society, wishing for a fleeting moment that he had a Stealth bomber, but decided it best not to mention anything Muggle-related around Ron's dad.

"Nothing to do but go after them," Lupin said logically. "There's enough of us. The Death Eaters have been reduced in number, and they're not as powerful as they were when Voldemort was alive."

Ginny shoveled a forkful of peas into her mouth. "We can take the witches and wizards. The problem's going to be the Dementors."

Mrs. Weasley fearfully glanced over at her daughter. "You were fighting Dementors?"

"Loads of them," she confirmed. "They're one of the reasons Cho Chang is in the Janus Thickey Ward right now." As she said this, Hermione noticed her knuckles turn white as she gripped her fork, then relax again.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "So she... what happened?"

"Two Death Eaters cast _Sectumsempra_ while Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse," Harry said quietly. "And the Dementors performed the Kiss."

"We got there just in time to get her out," Ginny added. "We didn't have the people to fight, so we just got her out and to St. Mungo's."

Alastor shook his head. "She was a fighter," he said gruffly. "Reckon she would've been a top-shelf Auror by the end. Too bad she won't have the chance."

There was a second of silence, then Fleur violently got to her feet, bumping the table.

"Zis is madness!" she cried. "My sister, zen Harry's ex-girlfriend... who next? Let us put an end to zis... storm ze house and get rid of ze problem!"

Silence reigned as her blue eyes glittered at each member of the Order in turn. Fred and George looked like they'd rather be back in an Umbridge-taught class than across the table from her.

From the other end of the table, a small voice spoke up. "I agree with her." It was Neville Longbottom.

Padma nodded. "Me too."

Slowly, the members of the Order voiced their support, and Hermione nodded. "So it shall be," she said poetically.

Satisfied, Fleur sat back down. "I hope I'm ze first in," she said, half to Bill and half to herself. "I want to be ze one who kills her."

xx

Later, after the meeting had been adjourned and the members of the Order had either left or retired to their quarters, Hermione slipped out of her room. She tiptoed down the hall toward the kitchen, being careful to make very little noise, not wanting to wake anyone up. Quietly, she crept around the corner and came to the stairs, almost screaming at the sight of a figure sitting on the top step.

"What are you doing up?" she hissed harshly.

Harry lifted his gaze. "I might ask the same of you."

"I'm going to the kitchen for some mead," she told him. "What's your excuse?"

"Can't sleep," he said with a shrug.

Hermione descended a stair, and caught the expression on his face in the light of her wand. Immediately, she went back and sat down next to him. "Is there something the matter, Harry? You look exhausted."

"I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately," he admitted.

"Why not?"

"I've been going to visit Cho a lot."

Her intuition kicked in immediately. "You're having second thoughts, aren't you," she said flatly.

Harry looked across at his friend, who was searching his eyes for answers. _Even if I don't tell her, she'll know,_ he thought, so decided to confide in her. "She loved me," he told her. "All the way up until sixth year, and maybe even after. Hermione, she's dreaming about me. And she's suffered so much..."

"Don't leave Ginny because you feel sorry for her," Hermione said sharply.

"That's not it at all," came Harry's irritable response. "Look... I just need to think. That's all." He let out a breath. "Go get your mead. I'll be fine here."

Hermione took the hint and descended the stairs. When she came back, he was gone. Trying to shrug it off, she pushed her door open.

"Run into someone?" Draco asked, as Hermione handed him his glass.

She pushed out of her slippers and cast her robe off. "Harry," she told him.

"Trouble sleeping?"

"He's just worried about Cho." She pulled back the bedclothes, and smiled at the sight of Draco's body. "You waste no time, do you?"

He smiled. "No, angel, I don't. But you like me that way."

"No," Hermione said with a grin, taking a sip of mead and crawling into bed with him. "I love you that way."

Draco smiled and moved close to her, pressing his lips softly to hers. She drew in a breath as she felt him poking gently into her thigh. Giggling, she nibbled on his earlobe. "We haven't changed since seventh-year, have we?"

"Would you have it any other way?" His fingers traveled along the curves of her body, over her flat stomach, and hooked on the elastic of her panties, pulling them slowly off.

She smiled, relishing the feeling of air on her bare skin. "Never."

Without wasting a second, he came over her, dropping kisses on her neck, and slid inside of her. Closing her eyes, she took a second to savor the feeling of Draco within her, the perfect fit of their bodies. He lowered his head to kiss her again, and she trembled as his hair brushed her neck.

"Don't tease me tonight," she entreated.

"I want to enjoy this."

She smiled. "Then go slow, baby, but don't hold out on me."

Draco answered with a kiss and continued to move within her, watching her eyes flicker as he hit all the right spots, watching her teeth catch her lip as she silently urged him for more. He obliged, and she relaxed into the pillow as he picked up the pace.

"Draco," she moaned, "faster... please..."

He lifted her legs, placing her calves on his shoulders. Knowing what was coming, she flung her arms around her legs and hung on. He slammed into her; her eyes flew wide open, painted with a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Hurt?" he said.

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes. "You know I love it," she panted. "Come on."

He grabbed her ankles, pinning them to his shoulders, and continued to hammer into her. She clenched her teeth and grasped at the pillows, at the blankets, at Draco-- she dug her fingernails into his thighs, her mouth wide open.

"Spell-- on-- the walls?" Hermione gasped, desperately holding back her screams.

Draco shook his head. "No, I forgot."

"Pillow," she puffed, and Draco took his hand from her ankle for a moment to hand one to her. She buried her face in it to muffle her moans, thrashing around as Draco held her ankles tight to his collarbone, sending her into an amazing orgasm.

Her face came out from the pillow and she relaxed into the bed, but Draco didn't stop. "Oh, please," she breathed, "I can't take much more..."

"I'm close," he panted.

Hermione nodded. "Get there."

His face transformed as he neared climax, still gripping her ankles. She was pulsing inside, her body twitching from sensory overload, and still she forced her eyes to stay open so that she could watch that face-- God, she loved that face.

"Hermione," he whispered. "Oh, yes..."

She felt him erupt inside of her, closing her eyes to relish the feeling. He hit the bed beside her a moment later.

"It's better," Hermione remarked, "when I'm not looking over your shoulder to make sure there isn't a Death Eater on a broom outside the window."

Draco smiled. "Angel, maybe we should move into the castle. Just temporarily, until this thing passes. Some of Dumbledore's old magic still protects it, plus everything you and Harry have done..."

"Mostly Harry," Hermione said. "I think you're right, though. I don't fancy the idea of leaving the manor-- I mean, while we're gone, someone could break in and do something-- bewitch something to harm us when we return, or someone could hide--"

"You worry too much, angel. We'll seal up the house as best as we know how. The most important thing is protecting our family."

Hermione nodded. "You're right. We'll pack tomorrow." With that, she wriggled into Draco's arms, let out a huge yawn, and fell fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

"So they're planning to storm this house," Bellatrix mused, drumming her long, bony fingers together. "I figured we might need a new place."

Natalya nodded. "We could relocate," she suggested. "Professor Karkaroff showed me many places that I could hide back when I was doing some work for the Dark Lord during my school years."

"Too far away." Bellatrix dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "We need a place in England, and I have just the house. Now what else do you have for me?" She uncrossed her ankles and rearranged her feet so that the heel of her left shoe poked into Kreacher's back, who was being used once again as a footrest.

"Hermione and Draco are planning to move into the castle."

This earned Kreacher a sharp kick. "What?"

"I was listening at their window. That's what I heard."

"They'll be nearly impossible to get to," Pansy said vacantly from her perch on the window seat. She stared with hollow eyes at Bellatrix. "I need him now..." Abruptly, she jumped from the ledge and ran out the door, nearly knocking a red-haired figure to the ground.

"Silly girl," Bellatrix said. Natalya immediately rose to shut the door.

"Who are you?" she said shortly, drawing her wand.

The man at the door slumped against the frame. His eyes were red. "My name," he replied, slurring his words a bit, "is Percy Weasley."

"Weasley," snarled Bellatrix, getting to her feet. "I had one of you wretches in my house earlier." She pulled her wand from her robes. "Tried to kill me."

Percy fell to his knees. "I'm not here to kill you," he told her.

"You work at the Ministry," Pettigrew squeaked. "You're that rotten, smug..."

"And you _used_ to be my rat," Percy said. "I _used_ to work at the Ministry."

Pettigrew stared at him.

"Fired today," he went on, "for saying my brother was an incapable little snot of a wizard. The Ministry, you know-- all they do is kiss the arses of Harry Potter and that Hermione trollop. It's like a cult." He struggled to get to his feet, and stumbled. "Well, I'll tell you. Even if they hadn't fired me, I was about to quit. You lot are making more and more sense these days." He drew himself up straight and looked squarely at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix regarded him with a suspicious eye. "Why should I trust you?" she demanded. "They could be placing you here as a spy."

Percy swayed, then drew his wand. Immediately, every Death Eater in the room pointed theirs at the red-headed intruder. Slowly, as if he didn't even see them, he poked it into his forearm.

_"Morsmordre," _he said calmly, and fainted.

xx

The third-eldest Weasley woke in a sparsely-furnished, dark, shabby little house. Slowly, the room and the faces filling it came into focus; he saw a dusty gold chandelier, a faded pink armchair, the head of a cane; he saw Crabbe and Goyle, Pettigrew, Bellatrix.

"Where am I?" he croaked.

"Hawkthorne," Bellatrix told him.

He arched an eyebrow. "This place warrants a name?"

"Careful, Weasley," warned Natalya, lying her wand at his throat.

"Sorry."

"You'll have to prove yourself, you know," Bellatrix snarled.

"Put me under the Cruciatus Curse," Percy puffed vehemently. "Will that prove my loyalty?"

Natalya smiled smoothly. "She may do that just because she enjoys it, flame-hair."

Percy let his eyes drink in the sight of Natalya's fine bones and muted coloring. "What about you?"

A wicked grin replaced her smile. "There are things worse than torture."

"My protege," Bellatrix fondly remarked. "Natalya."

Percy made a mental note.

"You will kill for me, then?" Bellatrix still seemed skeptical.

"Give me Hermione first," he seethed.

Natalya's smile returned. "We think as one, flame."

It was no longer an insult. Percy returned the smile.


	18. Chapter 18

-1"How do you think Harry and Ginny are getting on with the kids?" Hermione said, folding robes into a trunk.

Draco laughed. "Maybe Alyssa is finally taking to wizard's chess. Remember, Harry was trying to teach her?"

As the sun slipped below the horizon, Draco and Hermione were putting the last of their things into the trunks they were taking to Hogwarts. They had sent Alyssa up to the castle with Ginny earlier on so they wouldn't be bothered by her asking them why they couldn't take half the house with them.

Hermione locked her trunk shut, hefted a bag, and followed Draco down the hallway. Past the restroom they went, past Alyssa's room, the nursery, and the guestroom. Moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating portraits and throwing shadows on the wall. As they neared the end of the hallway, red light spilled out onto the carpet.

Draco moved to close the door of his old room, but Hermione stopped him. "You know," she began with a smirk, "it's been awhile since you've had a chance to really tie me up..."

Immediately, he slammed her against the wall, causing her to drop the bag she was carrying. In one swift move, he dropped to his knees, ducked beneath her skirt, and dipped his tongue between her folds.

Hermione giggled. "Draco," she said, "we have to get to Hogwarts..."

He grabbed her harshly around her hips. "Not until I've had my fill of you."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart rate accelerate. "And who am I tonight?" she ventured with a small smile, jumping slightly as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

A sneer crossed his face. "A fucking Mudblood from the Order," he spat, "who came into my house, looking to kill me, and now must suffer the consequences."

Hermione stumbled backwards as Draco shoved her into his old bedroom. She tripped and fell onto the bed, watching as Draco slammed the door shut behind him. Menacingly, he climbed over her-- she made her eyes wide and frightened as he pulled his wand and bound her tightly to the four-poster bed.

"Please," she gasped, making her voice sound low and frightened.

"Please," Draco mocked. "You come in here to kill me, and you expect me to have mercy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do." Hoping that it was still there, he opened the drawer of his nightstand-- his fingers closed around a small, silver-handled knife.

"What are you going to do?"

Draco made a tiny cut in the neck of Hermione's shirt. "Take you for all you're worth." He ripped her shirt down the center. "However, seeing as you're a Mudblood, that's not much, so we may be here all night." He moved to her skirt, slicing it in two, and ran his strong hands over her soft skin.

"No..." she whimpered... "please, don't do this. I'll... we'll leave you alone, we won't come back..."

He cut her bra in two and ripped her boyshorts from her pelvis. "Better come up with a better offer."

"I'll... tell you what we're doing, I'll give you information, just don't..." She drew in a sharp breath as Draco vanished his clothes off and pointed himself at her opening.

"Don't what?"

She closed her eyes, saying nothing. He was so close-- she could feel his warmth radiating.

"This?" And he slammed into her as hard as he could.

Her eyes flew open and filled with tears. Draco was slightly too big for her, but only when he hammered into her-- yet she liked the pain, and he knew it.

She narrowed her eyes with a cold hatred. "You're a wicked arse, Malfoy," she spat rebelliously.

Harshly, he backhanded her, leaving sharp red marks on her cheek. "Think so?"

"A coward," she continued heatedly, relishing the burn, as he continued to pound her relentlessly. It was several more moments before she could speak again. "Instead of coming to face me in a duel, you have to ambush me and..."

She was cut off by the sharp sting of another slap, this one imprinting the shape of his hand on the other side of her face. "Coming from the little bitch who was pleading with me just moments earlier."

Hermione glared. "You--" But her breath was taken away again as he harshly gathered her breasts into his palms, crushing them between his fingers. Draco watched wildly as her face twisted, nearing orgasm. Without warning, just as she was about to climax, he jerked out of her, grabbed her arms, and threw her over onto her stomach. She fought to turn back around, to get off the bed, but she was trapped. He shoved himself back inside of her, and she gasped.

"So wet for someone who doesn't want it," he noted.

"I can't help how my body reacts," she retorted; his response was to slip one hand around her mouth. Taking a fistful of hair in his other hand, he used it like reins as he rode her relentlessly, speeding up and thrusting more forcefully at each muffled scream.

"Oh, you slut," Draco panted, "you fucking whore... maybe I'll just keep you around here as a fuck toy... what a tight fucking cunt."

Hermione was having a hard time protesting any more. Draco felt so amazing inside of her; it was always best when she was on her stomach.

"Scream, you slut," Draco demanded. "I like to hear my victims scream."

In that instant, Hermione realized that no one was in the house, and she was free to make noise. She let loose with a piercing scream as Draco thrust deep inside of her and realized that she was about to orgasm-- her eyes flickered and rolled back. Draco's expression mirrored hers a moment later, and he landed on the bed next to her.

"We," puffed Draco, "should send Alyssa to stay with Harry and Ginny more often. I miss hearing you scream like that."

Hermione giggled. "I miss being able to scream like that."

Yawning, Draco closed his eyes. "I'm tired."

"I'm not." She kissed him.

He smiled sleepily. "You're always hyper after a good one."

"I know." She flipped onto her side. "How about I take the first load of bags to Hogwarts, then come back for you and the rest?"

"Hmm?" Draco was nearly asleep. "Yeah. Sure."

Hermione shook her head, smiling, and slipped his wand off the bedside table. _"Reparo," _she said, pointing it at her clothes, then slipped into them. Red marks still gracing her face and rope burn still circling her wrists, she grabbed up a trunk and a bag and breezed out the door.


	19. Chapter 19

_"Lumos!" _whispered Hermione, and clenched her wand in her teeth as she picked up her bags. She squinted to find her way down the corridors, ignoring the irritated grunts of several people trying to sleep in portraits. She managed to get to her office without too much trouble-- Peeves, of course, tried to run off with the trunk, but she threatened him with the Bloody Baron and he went straight off.

Once she'd hauled the heavy trunk up the stairs to the living quarters, she sighed and wiped her brow, realizing that she could have done magic the whole time to move the luggage. "Muggle moment," she muttered ruefully under her breath, as she pushed the trunk over to the foot of the bed.

She swept out the door, darkened wand in hand. Just as she was about to give light to the hallway--

"Hermione?" came a voice.

She jumped. "Rolanda," she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "You scared me."

Madam Hooch surveyed her with calculating eyes. "What are you doing here in the castle so late?"

"I was bringing some bags," Hermione explained. "Draco and I are taking Alyssa and coming to live in the castle until--" She stopped short as Madam Hooch took up one of her wrists, which was still circled in scarlet rope burn.

Hermione turned white. "I--"

"Come with me."

"Rolanda, honestly. If you'd just let me--"

_"Petrificus totalus!" _

_xx_

Hermione found herself back in her office, surrounded by staff members, the happiest of which was no doubt Filch.

"Always knew you were no good," he muttered. "Now how about you tell me what you did with my damn cat?"

"I don't know where that toilet brush went--" Filch bristled-- "but I demand to know what you all think you're doing!" Hermione's eyes cut through her colleagues.

"Now, now, dear," came Sybill Trelawney's wavery voice, "I did have a vision you would be taken by the dark side..."

"By the Malfoy bastard, no doubt," Filch growled. "Now c'mon, you trollop, what've you done with Mrs. Norris?"

"I don't much fancy being called names," she snarled at Filch, "and I don't take kindly to accusations that my husband is trying to place me in the service of Bellatrix Lestrange." She turned to Professor Sprout. "Pomona... will you talk some sense into them?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione dear-- I believe you, but with Bellatrix on the loose and all--" she shrugged. "We have to be suspicious of everyone. You could have been Imperiused. And--" she touched a gnarled finger to Hermione's wrist-- "someone has clearly been holding you against your will."

The knot in Hermione's stomach tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.

"One little drop," Professor Slughorn chimed in, swelling importantly as he took the cork out of a small vial. "Open up."

Hermione eyed the contents of the vial. It was a colorless potion; Veritaserum, she knew.

She opened her mouth, felt the liquid slide down her throat, and prepared for Rolanda's questioning.

"Your name."

"Hermione Jane Granger."

"Why are you at the castle tonight?"

"To bring luggage to my quarters for Draco, Alyssa, and myself."

"Are you under the influence of any potion, charm, spell, or curse?"

"Yes."

Rolanda's eyes opened wide in fright. "Which one?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Veritaserum."

A tiny laugh escaped Pomona's lips. "Sorry," she said promptly, as Rolanda shot a fierce glare in her direction.

"Any other magical influences you are under?" Rolanda continued.

"No."

"Where are Draco and your daughter?"

"Draco is at home. Alyssa is with Harry and Ginny."

"And why did Draco not accompany you to the castle?"

"Too many bags. I offered to make the first trip. Draco is tired." _Not a total lie,_ she thought, half-smiling at the thought of Draco's exhaustion.

Rolanda appeared to be satisfied. "Alright. You--" She stopped, watching Madam Pomfrey swoop down on Hermione's wrists with a salve.

"How did you get those rope burns?" she asked curiously, almost as an afterthought.

Hermione's eyes grew to the size of saucers. The words were on the tip of her tongue-- she had to say them, but she didn't have to tell her entire staff. On impulse, she rocketed to her feet, bent close to Rolanda's ear, and whispered quietly the reason she had rope burn around her wrists. Hermione's face was tomato-red as she came back to face her.

"Oh," Rolanda said shortly.

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Yeah."

"Well. Hermione seems to be just fine. Let's all-- let's all just get back to bed." She shooed the staff members, who all wore befuddled expressions, out of the office and shut the door behind her, turning to face Hermione. "Really, Hermione? You're not kidding?"

"Veritaserum," said Hermione with a shrug.

She and Rolanda looked at each other for a long moment, then both burst out laughing.

xx

Back at the Malfoy manor, Draco was asleep in a nest of pillows and blankets, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. He was dreaming of Alyssa-- but Alyssa ten years from now. She was a Seeker for Ravenclaw, her wide eyes bent on the Snitch, her long, straight, straw-blonde hair streaming behind her. Hermione was at his side, telling him how glad she was that Alyssa inherited his hair. He was laughing. Suddenly, his dream switched-- Alyssa was gone, all the spectators were gone. He was seventeen years old. The pitch was blissfully quiet, and he was ducking under the stands with Hermione. They giggled like mad; Draco suddenly looked down and saw he was completely nude, while Hermione was clothed in winter apparel. She said nothing, only giggled again, and vanished her clothes in a second. Without missing a beat, she leaned in and kissed him. He smiled at her-- he was laying down, and she was on top of him, it was no longer cold-- he felt a soft bed beneath him--

"Hermione," he breathed, stirring. His eyelids fluttered gently open, and he sat up in shock, immediately pulling the bedclothes over himself.

The girl who stared back at him had long, black hair and a wild look in her eye. She smiled as if she belonged, as if being in his house, in his bed, kissing him was the most natural thing on the earth.

"Hello, darling," she cooed. "Have you missed me?"


	20. Chapter 20

"Pansy?" He gaped at her, still half-asleep. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't hear the question. "How's Lucia, Draco?"

He was completely nonplussed. "Who?"

Pansy laughed, a hollow, possessed sort of sound. "Our daughter, love."

Draco shook his head. "My daughter is named Alyssa."

"No, no," Pansy corrected him, as if she was reminding a child not to fingerpaint without an apron. "Lucia. We named her after your dear father, remember?"

"I wouldn't name a dog after my father," he spat.

Pansy looked hurt. "It was my idea. You said when we got married..."

Draco felt like slapping her. "You and I are not married!" he cried in exasperation. "We don't have a daughter, you don't live in this house, and I do not love you. Do you understand?"

She remained unfazed. "But you want me." She bit her lip and managed a crooked smile.

Half amused, half disgusted, Draco regarded this pathetic creature. "No," he said finally, deciding to neither laugh nor vomit. "I don't."

"You kissed me back."

"I was asleep. I thought you were Hermione."

At the mention of Hermione's name, Pansy shrieked as if someone had sliced her arm open.

"What is the _matter_ with you?"

She stared hard at him for a moment, then yanked the covers off of him.

"Hey!" he protested.

"You and... that woman," she began, then stopped, distracted by the image of Draco nude. She'd seen him like this many times-- but only in her fantasies, then in her delusions. Never in reality.

He tugged the blanket out of her grip and quickly covered himself. "You were saying?"

"You just had sex with her," she said flatly. "Didn't you?"

Draco smiled. "Yes," he told her, stretching out his legs beneath the blanket, "and it was amazing. Like it always is. Every single day." He folded his hands behind his head and crossed his legs.

Inside, Pansy was disgusted, but lust was filling her veins. She crept closer to Draco, letting her lower lip catch in her teeth, purposefully sticking out her chest. "I could show you something more amazing."

"Doubt it," said Draco, unfazed. He examined a fingernail.

"I would do whatever you wanted me to," Pansy promised huskily. "Just... just let me touch you..."

He moved from her hand, which had been reaching out to his thigh. "No." Ignoring her pout, he made a big show of yawning and letting his eyes fall shut.

Furious and desperate, Pansy drew her wand and moved it methodically to his temple.

His eyes opened. "If you--"

_"Imperius," _she whispered staunchly.

Draco looked back at her with frightened eyes. "You know what I want," Pansy said in a low voice. "Give it to me."

As Pansy brought her lips to his, he felt his stomach turn. _Get away from me_, he thought, but no matter how much he visualized pushing her off, he couldn't force his limbs to agree. He submitted to her kiss, let his nose breathe in that disgusting and unmistakable scent-- anti-dandruff shampoo, musty florals, musk. Without realizing it, his hands had moved to her waist, and he was grabbing the fabric of her sweater, pulling it slowly from her body--

"Draco?" came a squeak, and he peered around Pansy's shoulder to see his wife.

~*~

Inside, he was pleading with himself. _Tell her what's going on, _he thought. _Tell her Pansy Imperiused you and that this is only happening because she's making you do it. _

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I just don't love you," is what came out of his mouth instead.

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

Pansy turned then. "Didn't you hear him?" she said irritably. "He loves me. Now get out of here."

At once, Hermione understood. Pansy's wand was still clutched in her right hand. She glanced back at Draco, and indeed, there was a pleading look deep in his eyes.

"Fine." Hermione sighed theatrically. "I should have known it was you that he loved all along, Pansy."

_What?_ thought Draco as she turned to go. _Hermione!_

In a flash, before either Draco or Pansy knew what was going on, Hermione had turned back and Stunned Pansy in a fit of rage.

"Take _that!"_ she cried, and spat at her. She then turned to Draco. _"Finite incantatem."_

"Thanks," Draco said. He paused. "You know, I thought you'd gone mental for a minute."

Hermione nodded, completely straight-faced. "I thought you had too."

They shifted their attention to Pansy.

"Now she's the mental one," Draco observed, nodding wisely.

Hermione laughed.


	21. Chapter 21

"What're you calling so early for?" Harry mumbled, rubbing a fist over his eyes. "There're no bloody classes today."

Hermione tried not to laugh. He was dressed in a big gray T-shirt with the Chudley Cannons logo emblazoned on the breast pocket, and Ginny's pajama pants-- pink fleece ones with a yellow duck print.

"We have our first trap," Hermione managed to say.

"Huh?"

"Last night, Pansy Parkinson broke into our home," she explained. "We didn't feel so much like dealing with her, so we led her straight into the trap where we knew she'd be safe until morning. She should be hanging there in mid-air now, just ready for you to deal with."

"Smashing," Harry said, and yawned. "Let's go."

Draco joined them then. "You may want to think about changing your clothes," he began, "if you want to be taken seriously by all of your students next time you hold a class."

Confused, Harry stared at him, then looked down at his pants. "Bloody hell," he swore, but laughed in spite of himself. "Give me a minute, will you?" He disappeared, and Draco and Hermione burst into a fit of laughter.

xx

"I bet _Witch Weekly _would have loved a photo of that," Draco cracked as they strolled out to the grounds. "For Harry Potter, it's not a question of boxers or briefs. It's a question about ducks or monkeys. You see, he's utterly obsessed with sleeping in girls' pajama bottoms and apparel from horrid Quidditch teams. Perhaps the question we should be asking is: boyshorts or thong?" He grinned.

Harry socked him on the arm, but he was grinning just the same. "The Cannons are number one, you know that. And if you're really curious, Draco, I rather prefer frogs, and as for the other question-- no need. I go commando."

Hermione howled with laughter. "Harry!"

"Okay, okay. Boxers. Except if I hop on my broom for a go at Quidditch. Aerodynamics are everything, you know."

She shook her head, but she was smiling. "Honestly." After a pause, she had an idea. "Hey! Let's go get Hagrid. He can see how the trap works without fussing over Fang and the nest this time."

"I don't think that's such a great idea," Harry said.

"Why not?"

He nodded toward Hagrid's cottage. The curtains were all drawn and the windows were all shut tightly.

"But Hagrid never--"

"Exactly."

Draco was confused. "I don't get it. What's going on?"

"Madame Maxime," Harry and Hermione said together. "Came back for a visit," Hermione added.

He shuddered.

Without warning, Hermione stopped in her tracks, making Harry run straight into her.

"Hey!"

"Well, watch where you're going."

"Sorry, I was--"

Draco launched into his news reporter's voice again. "When not picking out new pajamas, Potter enjoys visualizing Hagrid and Maxime snogging viciously, and--"

Hermione launched into a run.

"Wait! Hermione!" Harry and Draco chased after her to the edge of the grounds.

"She's not here," Hermione panted. "But look."

A message was burned into the grass: "The slaves of the Blood Queen are hers alone to torture."

At seeing the words, Harry quit trying to come up with a smart-aleck response to Draco. His mind immediately gravitated toward one thing, the one thing that had been on his mind more than anything lately.

"Harry?" Hermione ventured.

"I have to go," he said abruptly.

"Where?"

"St. Mungo's," he told her, immediately wishing he would have made something up. He regarded her for a moment, as if deciding whether to say something else, but he stepped off the grounds and Apparated away.

xx

Later that night, Hermione, in flannel pajamas, stood over Alyssa's bed. She watched her daughter sleep, wondering what she was dreaming, hoping it was something wonderful. On the other side of the room that joined the Potters' and the Malfoys' quarters, young Albus lay peacefully, snoring tiny little baby snores.

The door opened then, and Ginny tiptoed into the room, wearing the same pajama bottoms Harry had been in that morning, and a matching tank top.

"Hey, Gin," Hermione whispered as she joined her. "Aren't they precious?"

Ginny smiled. "I was afraid Albus would snore like Harry."

Hermione chuckled.

"Hey, speaking of Harry," Ginny said casually, "have you any idea where he's at? I checked, and he's not in the classroom, and no one had any detentions to serve, and he's not in the office..."

Hermione sighed. "All I know," she began, feeling that she owed Ginny at least this much, "is that he went to St. Mungo's this morning."

Ginny flushed. "St. Mungo's."

"Yes."

"This morning."

Hermione nodded and watched Ginny as she paced the room.

"Seems like he's always there lately," she remarked. Her lips flattened into a thin line.

_Yes, Gin, he is being a prat_, she thought, but didn't vocalize it. She had no idea what she was supposed to say.

"I just don't understand," she said. "What's wrong with what he has now? A son, a wife, a job at Hogwarts. And he's thinking of running away with Cho? Maybe complete his Auror training?" She paused. "Maybe he actually misses the life he had. The adventure."

"You could be worrying for nothing," Hermione suggested. "You know how fiercely protective Harry is of his friends. And with losing his parents, then Sirius... well, he's probably just genuinely worried about her, Ginny."

She considered this for a moment.

"He wouldn't dream of leaving you, Gin."

"We'll see," she said skeptically. And with a toss of her flame-bright hair, she marched out of the room.

xx

Ginny Potter sat down on the edge of her bed and heaved a melancholy sigh, trying to figure out precisely what was gnawing at her. She was angry, of that she was sure. No matter what Harry was doing, he hadn't sent word to her that he would be late coming home.

She also felt inadequate. If her husband was running to wait at the bedside of his semi-conscious and raving ex-girlfriend, she couldn't be a very good wife. What was she doing wrong? She always stood by his side, always listened when he needed to talk. _It's not easy being the wife of the Boy who Lived,_ a stubborn voice inside her head snapped. _Don't be so damn hard on yourself._

In addition to anger and inadequacy, however, a third feeling was poking at her, something that she could not recognize. Was it sadness? _I _am_ sad that this is happening,_ Ginny thought as she climbed into bed, _but that's not it. _Pulling the thick quilt over her, she realized how much she missed Harry's breath on her neck and his arm around her middle.

_Maybe it's emptiness,_ she thought.

xx

Meanwhile, in the Janus Thickey Ward, Harry's chin slipped out of the palm of his hand. He blinked several times in succession, trying to wake himself up. He knew he should go home, back to Hogwarts and Ginny and Albus, but he couldn't force himself to leave.

_She's so peaceful,_ he thought, as he watched Cho dream. A hint of a smile charmed her lips; Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was making any more appearances in her unconscious mind. _What kind of appearances?_ He thought briefly of what Cho had said. "I wanted you to touch me."

_I still want to touch you,_ Harry thought petulantly, and fell fast asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

"Mistress, please!" Pansy writhed and twisted on the ground, screaming, under the demonic glare of Bellatrix's glittering eyes. "I beg you--"

"Begging will do you no good!" crowed Bellatrix, her wand aloft. "You'll wish Natalya had left you there after I'm through with you. Speaking of--" she turned to the white-haired girl-- "any news?"

Natalya handed her a scroll, which she smoothly unrolled with her long fingernails. "Minister Button-- Ginny, Draco, Hermione, and I are staying in the Hogwarts faculty quarters with our children. If you need to pop in again, you know where to find us. Thanks. Harry."

A tiny _pop_ announced Kreacher's presence, and Bellatrix glared at him. "What?"

"Would Mistress like lemon?" he asked timidly over the screams of Pansy.

She kicked him sharply, the hard leather toe of her boot hitting right between two ribs. "How many times do I have to tell you, put everything on the tray and I will put it in myself!"

Kreacher bowed low, trying to ignore the searing pain coursing through his body. "Forgive me, Mistress," he sputtered, and ran back into the kitchen.

Bellatrix turned back to Pansy, who was digging her nails into the leg of the nearest table. "Get up, you filthy wretch."

Pansy looked up.

"I said, _get up!_" She seized Pansy by the collar and drug her to her feet.

"Please..."

_"Finite incantatem."_

Natalya sulked on the couch. She had been hoping Bellatrix would torture the girl into insanity, and maybe even beyond.

"You acted without my permission," Bellatrix said coolly. "You are not to do _anything_ without my permission, let alone make contact with our enemy."

"Draco... isn't--" She broke off at the sadistic glint in her Mistress' eye. "He's just misguided," she finished lamely.

_Stupid,_ thought Natalya, _but brave._

"You," Bellatrix continued, as if she hadn't even heard Pansy, "have lost my trust. But if you'd like, I will offer you a chance to gain it back."

"I'd do anything," came Pansy's desperate response.

An evil smirk crossed her lips. "I thought you might say that." Leisurely, she stretched out a long, bony finger and took her teacup off the tray Kreacher carried. She took her time adding lemon and-- Pansy shuddered-- a drop of blood.

At seeing Pansy's disgusted expression, Bellatrix laughed. "Few know that drinking a drop of veela blood daily will eventually restore youth and beauty."

_Not working yet,_ Pansy thought.

"Where'd you get it?" asked Natalya out of curiosity, as if veela blood was a commodity you could purchase in Diagon Alley.

"Gabrielle Delacour," came the equally nonchalant response.

"She's not pure veela," Natalya said.

_Maybe that's why it's not working,_ mused Pansy.

Bellatrix turned back to the pug-faced girl. "If you want to regain my trust, you will perform a task for me."

"Anything," she said again.

"You will break into Hogwarts and bring Draco out. I would tell you that I want him alive, but I know that you would never really kill the prat. You're in love with him."

The words hit Pansy like a slap in the face. _Love,_ she thought wildly, picturing Draco's eyes, the way he looked at her back in their fifth year. She'd been afraid that the light would soon fade from them, but Bellatrix wanted him alive. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You'll bring him out so I can torture him." She paused. "To death."

Pansy felt her heart drop.

"Natalya," Bellatrix said, "Walburga's given you the counter-curses, hasn't she?"

"Yes."

"Then, Pansy," Bellatrix told her, "Natalya will accompany you to make sure the job is done. If you fail, I know she will remain loyal to me."

A self-satisfied smile crept onto Natalya's face. "Of course, Mistress."

"Then go," she commanded.

"Mistress," Pansy began breathlessly, "please... will you at least let me try to convince him to re-join us, to leave them behind..."

"I don't want him to come back," Bellatrix said coldly, fixing her icy stare on the young woman that stood before her. "And I'd rather you not, either."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kreacher was putting the tea things away. "Filthy," he muttered under his breath. "Nasty, mean, cruel, savage, vile..."

And suddenly, almost involuntarily, he smashed his head off the oven and shut his hand in the drawer beneath. For Kreacher hadn't been insulting Hermione, or Ginny, or even Pansy.

He'd been talking about Bellatrix.


	23. Chapter 23

"Mmm," Hermione said softly, "Draco..."

Pale, strong moonlight poured in through the wavy undulations of the ancient glass window, illuminating the gray stone of their chamber. Hermione marveled at the light, the way it created an almost-halo in Draco's cornsilk hair, the way it etched fragments of stars in his grey-blue eyes. It seemed to her that he was almost more fervent in the moonlight-- she wasn't sure whether she just fancied the look in his eye, or if he really was consumed by the celestial glow.

His hands traveled her skin like silken fire, urgent and burning and delicate. She always fell to pieces under that touch-- he could make her shatter like no other, and she loved it. Closing her eyes, she held her breath in for a moment so she could thoroughly savor the feel of his hands on her body.

Subtly, he replaced his hands with his lips, dropping snowflake kisses onto her stomach, her breasts, her neck. It was almost like music, the way he kissed her, rhythmic, _adagio_. She felt beautiful with him, a rare thing for her, even though Draco always thought she looked pretty.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the ear as he slid slowly inside her. He began to move slowly, agonizingly so, and Hermione hit him softly with a balled-up fist.

"Come on," she begged, sounding like a petulant child. "Draco..."

He gave her a playful little smile.

Knowing that her imploration would do her no good, she nestled back into the pillows and let herself enjoy the sensation he created inside of her. Draco was so skilled at controlling himself; he could go for hours just like this, just watching Hermione's face, keeping that pace that drove her absolutely crazy.

Draco let his right hand trail down the front of her body, stopping briefly to cup one of her breasts; he ran it over the flat plane of her stomach, across her pelvic bone, and hooked two fingers between her folds, where she was moist already. She let out a soft "Oh!" and her eyelids fluttered; her lower lip caught on her teeth, and Draco grinned. Then--

A soft hooting sound was coming from the window. Hermione and Draco turned, and saw Hedwig tapping open the window with her beak. She cocked her head, staring at the tangled bodies of her owner's friends, and looked quizzically at Hermione.

"Why, Hedwig," Draco said playfully, "aren't you the voyeur?"

Hermione smiled, wriggling in place. Draco's fingers were still touching her, and she wanted them to start moving again.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers and flew inside, alighting on the floor. Her talons clicked against the stone. She ruffled her feathers again--

"What's happening to her?" Draco asked. He withdrew his fingers and sat down next to his wife. They watched, aghast, as Hedwig transformed into a thin, white-haired, red-eyed girl.

"Who are you?" Draco demanded.

"You're Natalya Ivanakov," Hermione whispered, awed. "So it was true."

Draco was befuddled. "You're Hedwig?"

"No," Natalya snapped. "It just happens that I'm an Animagus who transforms into a snowy owl, and you lot were too stupid to recognize that you had a different bird about."

"And too stupid to know you're under the influence of a love potion," said another voice scornfully, and Draco turned to see Pansy standing in the doorway.

Under her breath, Hermione muttered a quick spell, and she and Draco were clothed again. She caught the disappointment on Pansy's face. "Look, Parkinson," she spat.

_She must be fuming, _Draco thought, watching her climb out of bed.

"You will get out of our room," Hermione began, "and--"

Pansy's eyes were filled with hungry vengeance. _"Immobulus!" _she shrieked, and Hermione stood, frozen, to her spot.

Draco raised his wand. "You--"

_"Petrificus totalus!" _Natalya shouted, and Draco fell flat onto the floor.

"I want to kill her," Pansy said thirstily, glaring down at Hermione.

"It is your Mistress' decision whether to kill or not," Natalya told her. "She may have a purpose for the Mudblood we are unaware of."

Pansy scowled. "I'll get mine," she said softly.

_"Wingardium leviosa," _said Natalya coolly, and Draco levitated off the floor.

As they went out the door, Ginny burst into the room, wand raised_. "Finite incantatem!" _she yelled, and the color returned to Hermione's face in a hurry.

"Come on!" Hermione shouted, grabbing Ginny's hand, and chased Natalya and Pansy down the hall.

They had just made it out of the room when the door opened again, and Alyssa toddled sleepily out of the room. "Mommy?" she said. "Daddy?" She looked around herself-- the room was empty. She heard a yell-- Hermione firing off a curse-- and ran to the doorway.

"Mommy!" she screamed, but Hermione didn't hear her. Alyssa thought for a split second, then began to chase her mother down the hallway as fast as her little feet would take her.


	24. Chapter 24

-1_"Incendio!" _Hermione screamed, and Pansy's robes caught on fire.

Natalya laughed. "Is that all you can do, Mudblood? _Aguamenti!_" The flames were instantly extinguished.

"Let my husband alone!"

Pansy laughed maniacally. "Not for long!"

_"Petrificus totalus!" _Hermione shrieked, but the curse missed Pansy and struck a passing butterfly. It fell to the ground and shattered on impact.

"You have brought him," came an icy voice. "Good."

Pansy stopped dead in her tracks. "Mistress," she gasped, catching her breath. "I didn't know you would come--"

"Of course I was going to come, you insolent brat," she spat. "I want to duel with the traitor. I want to watch him die."

_Her master taught her well,_ Hermione thought, remembering Harry's recollection of the duel with Voldemort in the graveyard. "_He wanted to see the light leave my eyes," he had said. Oh God, let Draco be strong._

_"Finite incantatem," _she said, and Draco crashed to the ground, shaking his head. He saw Bellatrix first, then Ginny and Hermione behind him, wands drawn, grim looks on their faces.

"Stay out of it," he commanded immediately, knowing what Bellatrix was looking for. "It's me she wants. Don't get yourselves into this."

"Nonsense," said Hermione, though her voice shook. "I'll kill her if I have to."

Bellatrix crowed with laughter. "Isn't that sweet," she said caustically, and cast a glance at her minions. Immediately, Natalya and Pansy squared themselves in front of Hermione and Ginny, wands out, glaring.

"Now get on your feet and fight me," Bellatrix demanded.

Slowly, Draco drew himself up. Rage in his eyes, he turned to face Bellatrix, who was drunk on anticipation and power.

"You are still a slave, you know," Draco said calmly, his wand pointed directly at his aunt's face. "You are only what he sculpted you into."

"I am proud!" she shrieked, the shrill sound of her voice slicing through the calm night air. "I am a living testament to all that my Master accomplished!"

"Your master," Draco sneered, "is dead. He is dead because he was like you-- stupid and blind to the one thing that can defeat power like his. And yours."

Bellatrix sneered. "Don't you dare," she seethed, "don't you dare give me that bunch of bollocks about--" She broke off, unable to even speak the word. "I am going to kill you," she shrieked wildly, "and your traitorous mother, and your Mudblood wife, and your filthy brat daughter..."

"You will not _touch_ Alyssa!" Draco hollered, with a glare that could penetrate stone.

"Daddy?" came a small voice. Everyone turned-- and there she was, Alyssa, in pale pink fleece pajamas that enveloped her from neck to toe, clutching her baby doll.

"Speak of the devil," Bellatrix trilled, and pointed her wand at Alyssa. _"Crucio!"_

In that instant, three things happened. Alyssa screamed. Draco abandoned the idea of his wand and tackled Bellatrix. And Ginny took advantage of the distraction to Stun Natalya.

"Alyssa," Draco said, turning from Bellatrix and expecting to see his daughter howling in pain on the ground. Instead, he beheld his wife, twisting and shrieking, her eyes round, her fists clenched. Ginny turned at the same time. They raised their wands--

_"Finite incantatem!" _chorused Draco and Ginny, and Hermione relaxed.

Pansy knelt at Natalya's side. _"Ennervate," _she said softly, and Natalya rose to her feet.

"You," spat Draco, glaring at Bellatrix, who was bleeding from her forehead. "You..." He raised his wand. _"Avada..."_

_Crack._

"They Disapparated," Ginny sighed.

Draco gathered Hermione into his arms. "Are you alright?"

Tears welling in her eyes, Hermione nodded. "Alyssa?" She turned to her daughter, who was rooted to her spot. "Alyssa, honey. It's okay now. They're gone."

Dazed, Alyssa toddled over to her mother and plopped down in her lap. "I was scared, Mommy."

"I know, baby. But it's okay now." She kissed her on the forehead.

"Look," Ginny said, pointing. In the three spots where the witches had stood, three items had taken their place; a black feather, a flaming torch with pure white fire, and a red rose that looked as if its petals were blood-stained obsidian.

Draco turned to Hermione. "What does it mean?"

Her eyes were wide and frightened. "I don't know."


	25. Chapter 25

-1The Hungarian Horntail towered above Harry, breathing fire as bright as Ginny's hair. Its spiky tail thrashed about indiscriminately, creating small caverns in the rock that surrounded them. Harry was calling and calling for his broom-- not the broom he rode in fourth year, but the broom Ginny had given him for his birthday two years ago. "Accio Lightstorm! _Accio Lightstorm! Accio--" _The stadium went quiet as the spectators realized Harry didn't have a backup plan. Then, out of nowhere, a scream pierced the air, a scream he recognized--

Harry awoke with a start, his hair plastered to his forehead. "Cho? Cho, are you alright?"

Cho looked back at him, not with clouded eyes, not with confused eyes, but with sparkling clarity and sanity. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't delirious and raving.

"Cho, are you alright?" pressed Harry. "Do you know where you are?"

"Harry," she said. The ethereal tone had gone from her voice. She was grounded. "Harry-- how long have I been here? What are you doing here?"

"Since we went to rescue Alyssa," he told her. "Bellatrix-- she--" His throat tightened.

"Tortured me," Cho finished. "I assumed as much. And these?" She held up her arms, which were no longer covered in bandages. The deep cuts had been reduced to scratchlike marks.

"Sectumsempra," he said.

Cho nodded slowly. "Did Bellatrix-- did she-- you know, get anyone else?"

It was too hard to speak to her. "No."

"Thank God." She sighed. "And Alyssa?"

"She's fine. We got her."

"I've been having nightmares," Cho said, after a long pause in which Harry managed to bite the nails of his left hand down to the nubs.

"What about?"

"Her," she said icily, and Harry didn't have to ask who she was referring to. "She was torturing you."

"Me?"

"She had me bound to a chair, forcing me to watch, and I could feel your pain. It was almost as painful to watch. It was unbearable, because--" Her face flushed scarlet and she stopped.

"Go on," Harry prodded gently.

Cho mumbled something into her pillow.

"What?"

She looked up. "Because I love you," she wailed, and flung her face back down into the pillow. "Don't you see?" Tears streamed down her pink cheeks and soaked the immaculate white pillowcase that Harry had dutifully changed every night, remembering about Cho's allergies.

"Cho, I--"

"I know," she sniffled, "I know you can't, I know we can't, but God, the only thing I ever wanted was you." Her face was a cloud. "I felt so terrible after fifth year. It drove me crazy thinking about it... I was so hyper-sensitive, I lashed out because I was so afraid of losing you... and that drove us apart. And I'll never forgive myself for it, I just-- you--" She trailed off into a hiccuping sob.

Harry could take it no longer. He stood and clasped her hands, pushing a strand of raven-wing hair from her wet face. "Cho, I--" He broke off, looking at her for what seemed like forever, and no words came. Only one thought was there, one idea taking over his mind, pushing him, pulling him--

Barely even aware of what he was doing, he bent close to her, pulled her in, and kissed her fiercely.

When he pulled back, he saw the surprise in her eyes, but also the fire, the yearning. "Harry," she began, "you can't--"

"I don't want to think right now," Harry said firmly, "of anything but you." Setting his worn shoes gently by his chair, he climbed into Cho's warm bed. It was electrifying, he knew, when they touched-- it always had been, before. Now, as he lifted her hospital gown from her body, as he softly laid his hands on her chest, that electricity multiplied. He felt a tingle in his fingers, which slowly spread to the rest of him as Cho deftly removed his trousers and sweater.

As she reached for his boxers, a faint image of Ginny, alone, flickered in his conscience. But as her shaky hand reached for him, as her lithe fingers curled around him, the image faded, and he gave in, completely, to the girl he'd loved for years.


	26. Chapter 26

"He's still not home, then?" Draco cast Ginny a worried look.

"No." She squirmed in her wingback chair, reminding Draco of an impatient toddler. They were taking tea together in Draco's chamber, as Hermione was meeting with the Minister of Magic.

"And you said he's--"

"At St. Mungo's." Ginny's glare fixed on some indiscriminate point behind Draco.

Draco gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Gin," he said softly.

She fought back tears. "I know. It's just--" she sighed. "I always feel like I'm second-rate. You know? Trying to make myself stand out with all my brothers around; Harry only came to me after he couldn't get Cho. Even that tight little circle with those three. I thought I might be able to penetrate it, being just as close to him, but I still can't. I'm always playing second fiddle. Always the outsider."

"Ginny--"

"It's true," she sighed. "Don't try to convince me otherwise. Anyway. How long do you figure Natalya was posing as Hedwig?"

Draco paused. They hadn't seen a snowy owl since they discovered Natalya had been intercepting their post, which meant one of two things-- Hedwig was caged up somewhere, or dead. _Probably the latter,_ said Draco's pessimistic side, reasoning that Bellatrix was sadistic and enjoyed killing for the sport of it.

"Don't know," Draco said. "I just wonder what messages they got."

"Harry sent one to tell the Minister that we were staying here," Ginny put in. "Obviously they got that one."

"Obviously." He stirred his tea. "Well, we know better than to use any snowy owl anymore."

"For now," she said. "I'm sure Hermione can come up with a way to identify the real Hedwig when she comes back, then we can figure out a way to... tag her or something..."

Draco smiled. "I want to know what those damn things meant."

Ginny's face was blank.

"The rose, the torch, and the feather," he clarified. "Why did they leave them?"

"Did she take them?" Ginny asked.

Draco shook his head. "We don't know what they do, so they're being guarded. Hermione had an idea this morning, though, and ran off to the library."

A smile lit Ginny's otherwise solemn face. "Hermione."

The door swung shut behind them. "Yes?"

They turned to see Hermione standing at the door, her wavy hair full of dust. "It took me fifteen minutes with the Minister," she said breathlessly, "and the rest of the time, I've been searching for this." She slammed a heavy, ancient-looking book down on the table.

"And what is that?" Draco cast an appraising glance at the book. A spider wriggled free of its pages, and Ginny unceremoniously smashed it with her fist.

Hermione flipped it open and leafed through the pages until she found what she was looking for. "That," she said, "read that."

Ginny took the book. "Trinity of Evil," she read. "The Trinity of Evil is one of the oldest and most powerful forms of magic. Symbolized by the colors white, black, and red, the necessary elements to empower three witches into a Trinity are love, death, and blood. Blood binds the witches, while death transforms them into a singular person. Love, meanwhile, the opposite of a Dark power, ensures the witches' protection."

Draco sighed. "Great. So now what?"

"The symbols," Hermione began. "Think. There was a red rose left by Bellatrix, for blood. Natalya left a black feather, black for death. And Pansy left a torch that burned with white fire."

"White for love," Ginny filled in.

"I can believe Natalya would kill and Bellatrix would let someone bleed, but Pansy loving? She's too much of a heartless bint to love."

"She's always been in love with you, Draco," Hermione said gently.

"That's not love," Draco told her. "That's lust, bordering on obsession."

"He has a point, you know," Ginny chimed in.

Just then, the door opened, and Harry entered, looking disheveled and tired. Color rushed to Ginny's cheeks.

"I, uh, think we'll be going," Hermione stammered, and, grabbing the book, followed Draco out of the room. As soon as they had shut the door, she could hear Ginny screaming, followed by Harry's spluttering response.

"Harsh," Draco said with a low whistle.

"He deserves it," Hermione said. "Leaving Ginny like that to mope at Cho's bedside."

Draco shrugged. "I guess you're right." He grabbed a piece of parchment off the table and scribbled a note.

"Who are you owling?" Hermione asked.

"My mum and Alastor," he replied. "I want them at Hogwarts right away. Bellatrix is going to go after her. I know Alastor can protect her-- she's well capable of protecting herself, too-- but I'd rather have her safe here."

Hermione nodded. "Just don't use a snowy owl," she advised, and sat down with her book.


	27. Chapter 27

"We need to complete the Trinity," Bellatrix said flatly. "We have to use the bint." She jerked a thumb toward Pansy, who was sobbing in the corner.

"She's so weak, Mistress," Natalya argued. "We should find someone who is stronger."

"No one else is capable of what she is capable of."

"Mistress," Natalya implored, "she only carries the same magic as the boy. It's not special. It's not--" she lowered her voice-- "our way."

"It's old magic," Bellatrix snapped, "and the power of that magic helped to bring our Dark Lord to his untimely end." She sighed. "I cannot love, and neither do I want to. Your heart, Natalya, is colder than the mountain caves and glaciers at Durmstrang. Wormtail, Crabbe, Nott, not even young Weasley-- none of us are capable of loving anymore. But Pansy's weakness will be our strength."

Pansy lifted her head; mournful eyes stared holes into Bellatrix.

"Yes," Bellatrix said smoothly. "Just as my Master built me, I have molded you."

She said nothing.

"You will be the third arm of our Trinity, Pansy. You will give us the protection we need."

Knowing it would be futile to resist, Pansy nodded.

"Rise."

She stood, feeling weary, as if her knees could drop out from beneath her at any second. So long had she been hopelessly dependent on Draco's admiration and approval that, when he withdrew it, she gave in to weakness. Bellatrix, she remembered, had found her on the edge of oblivion, and brought her back. She remembered what the Blood Queen had taught her, how fragile and compliant her mind must have been those first few days, because she believed it all.

"Obey me," Bellatrix had said, "pledge you'll die for me, and I'll bring your Draco back to you." Pansy had given her oath, and since then, had spent many nights dreaming about how he would look, what he would say, what they would do, when he came back to her. Sometimes he was coming back from a duel, where he killed Harry in front of Bellatrix, earning her trust. Other times he simply showed up at her room at the house, saying nothing, only pressing his lips to hers. She ached to feel it again. She ached to see him again, not as Hermione's, but as _hers. _She understood now, understood that all those visions, the dreams-- Bellatrix had placed them in her mind, because she needed a witch who could love to seal the Trinity.

And now this. Indeed, Bellatrix was going to keep her promise; she was bringing him back to Pansy, but not in the way that Pansy had hoped. Part of her wanted to resist, to run away, to refuse. She didn't want to be used by Bellatrix anymore. But any fleeting thought of escape was smashed when the incantation began.

_"Innocent blood spilt;_

_Three begins to wilt._

_As taken by a knife_

_Murder brings forth life."_

Bellatrix drew out the charm of the pendant she wore around her neck-- a vial of dark red blood-- and pulled it off. She emptied it onto the floorboards, then turned to Natalya.

_"Death lies at my feet;_

_Sovereignty we cheat._

_Knife cuts through to bone;_

_Sisters-- not alone."_

Natalya drew a knife from the folds of her robes and stuck it into the floor. "Pansy."

Pansy drew in a deep breath, then recited. _"Magic cut from moon,_

_Circle and cocoon,_

_Love I shall provide,_

_Protection with pride."_

Bellatrix grinned, and recited the final words. _"From hellfire to womb,_

_From Gaia to tomb,_

_These blood sisters three,_

_Now one shall we be."_

Pansy felt a shiver course through her. It was like ice had entered her veins. More than ever, she wished she had the strength to run.

Bellatrix took a deep breath, closing her eyes, clenching her fists. She was drunk with the power, intoxicated with the knowledge that Pansy's unrequited love would protect her from the Boy who Lived and all of his friends.

Pansy just felt sick.

Settling into her chair, Bellatrix summoned Kreacher into the room, who came at once carrying a tea tray. Bellatrix pinched a lemon between her long fingernails and added its juice to her tea. She raised her glass, a crooked smile painting her face. "To the Boy who Lived," she said insolently, "not living for much longer."

Natalya, who appreciated this kind of wicked humor, crowed with laughter as Pansy sank silently onto the couch. She watched Bellatrix bring her teacup to her lips and spit the tea back out. Immediately, she threw the cup at Kreacher, soaking him with hot liquid.

"This is too hot!" she shouted, kicking him over. "Are you trying to kill me?" Another kick.

"No, Mistress, I just-- I'm sorry, last time it was too cold, I only try to please you..."

She grabbed up the teapot and emptied its scalding contents over his head. He winced and cried out.

"Get back in there," she demanded, "and do it _right_ this time!"

Kreacher, still howling in pain, hopped back into the kitchen.

"And get rid of that... thing," she said distastefully, waving a hand at Hedwig's cage.

"I'll do it," said Pansy, rising to her feet. She lifted the cage from its table and brought it out of the room. Natalya, doubtless, would have killed it; Pansy didn't want it dead, at least just yet.

Kreacher, meanwhile, was trying to tend to his own wounds in the kitchen. He was too short to reach the kitchen sink; ice would hurt too much; Bellatrix had forbidden him to use magic for any benefit to himself, including healing. He jumped up and down in pain, put a hand on the knob of the door that led out to the backyard. He knew Bellatrix kept an aloe plant, perhaps that would help. Quietly, he turned the knob, creeping out into the dark tangle of plants and dead leaves, and searched furtively around the garden. He was bent over an unidentifiable flowering bush when he felt eyes on him.

Frightened, he jerked himself into a standing position, protectively holding his skull, where the brunt of the tea had hit him. It was Pansy watching him, Hedwig's cage in one hand, her other hand extended. Something was clenched inside it. Cautiously, he approached her--

It was Bellatrix's aloe plant, the roots dangling grotesquely in the air. She gave it to him, and he took it, aghast.

"Go," she said tonelessly.

And Kreacher ran, as fast as his scorched feet could carry him, back down the paths he had taken before, only stopping to watch a white bird cross the sky.


	28. Chapter 28

"He slept with her!" Ginny shouted, pacing the floor of Draco and Hermione's chamber, her hands shaking. "He bloody _slept_ with her, right in the hospital bed!"

"I don't believe it. Are you sure he wasn't Imperiused, or--"

"I checked him!" She held a granite paperweight in her hand. "I checked him for everything, because I never believed he would do that to me. But he did, he climbed right up into that little black-haired bitch's bed and--" She hurled the paperweight at the closed window. Sunlight flooded the room as the glass shattered. "Sodding git." She sank down into a wingback chair.

"I'm sorry, Gin," Hermione said gently, sitting down in a chair across from her.

"I'm not going to forgive them for this," Ginny told her. "Either one. You know, to think I worked alongside her all these years... we were colleagues. I put my life in her hands, I saved her life more than once, and this is how she repays me?"

"It's not fair," Hermione agreed, as Draco began to sweep up the broken glass. "And Harry... you've been there for him through so much."

"Apparently I just don't do it for him," she snapped. "Sod it, Hermione, I'm leaving. I'm taking my son and I'm going to my mother's house. I can't stand being around him."

"You'll be in danger," Hermione protested. "Bellatrix knows Harry's weaknesses are those he loves. If you leave Hogwarts, she'll find you."

"There's only one problem with that logic," Ginny argued.

"What's that?"

"Obviously, Harry doesn't love me."

"Ginny." Hermione's tone was half sympathetic, half reproving.

"Would you ever do that to Draco?"

"Of course not."

"That's because you love him, then," Ginny concluded. "See?"

Hermione was silent.

"It's okay, Hermione. It's been this way all my life. I'm destined to be second best." She rose. "I'm getting rather used to it. I can't pretend it doesn't still sting sometimes, but hey-- someone's got to be in my position." She laughed bitterly.

"Ginny." Her tone was pleading.

"I know. I'll stay," she said grudgingly, "but just because I know you care. I'll sleep in the nursery with the kids."

"I'll get it," Draco suddenly called, and Hermione realized someone had been knocking.

"If it's Harry, tell him to sod off," Ginny said sourly.

"No problem." He opened the door, and to his ultimate surprise, found himself looking at Dobby.

"Master Malfoy, sir," Dobby squeaked; even though he knew Draco had changed, he still found himself frightened of him.

"Dobby, go away," Draco commanded. "We're busy."

"No," said Dobby shakily. "Your wife, sir... she has a visitor."

"Who?" asked Hermione.

Kreacher stepped into the doorway. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth-- he was covered head to toe in boils, burns, and bruises, and was wearing a tattered, filthy pillowcase.

"Kreacher?" Hermione said unbelievingly. "What happened?"

He lifted his eyes to meet Hermione's. "I am sorry I ever called you a filthy little blood traitor, Miss Hermione," he said quietly.

Ginny's eyes grew round.

"Oh, Kreacher. Forget about it. What happened to you?"

The house-elf's eyes filled with tears, and he gave Hermione a brief explanation of the horrors he suffered at the hands of Bellatrix. "So I decided to run away," he finished. "Harry Potter gave me my freedom."

Ginny stuck her nose in the air and walked out of the room.

"Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said. "She'll be able to help heal these burns."

"The Mudblood is very kind," Kreacher said, and Hermione knew he meant it as a compliment.

As Draco finished repairing the broken window, an owl flew in and landed next to Hermione. She took the scroll from the bird and unrolled it.

"Oh, no," Hermione breathed. "No."

"What's the matter?"

"It's Professor McGonagall," Hermione said quietly. "She wants us to visit her immediately. She's dying."


	29. Chapter 29

"We came as soon as we could," Hermione said softly, kneeling at Professor McGonagall's bed.

She looked up at them with round, bewildered eyes. "Tea?"

Draco took a rose-etched teacup from her nightstand and set it into her withered hands.

"Albus is resting." She took a sip of tea.

Hermione glanced at Draco.

"In his portrait." She cleared her throat. "Waiting. Until he is needed." Her eyelids began to droop. "Don't untie it until you are in the office."

"Minerva," Hermione said softly. "How do we wake him up?"

"There is... a wrapping for you."

"A wrapping?"

"Yes. Thing... in paper... on the table." She looked frustrated.

Draco touched the tip of his wand to her teacup. "_Lucidus,_" he whispered.

She drank. "Thank you, Draco. I might have known that an exemplary pupil of Severus Snape's could turn tea into Lucidity Potion with a spell."

He smiled.

"You know, it's odd," she said, blinking at the couple through her spectacles. "I felt so well a few days ago, dancing with Fred Weasley, and suddenly I'm dancing with death." She yawned leisurely. "I think I'm going to sleep now-- I don't think I shall wake up." Her eyelids fluttered, and she turned to Hermione. "I'll see you in your office, Hermione." Her eyes closed; the teacup slid from her fingers and hit the floor.

Hermione burst into tears. "She's really gone."

Draco crossed the room and lifted the package from the table. "It feels like stone," he reported, turning it in his hands.

"Don't open it here," Hermione warned.

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear her? 'Don't untie it until you are in the office,' she said."

He dropped the string. "Let's get back, then."

"And just leave her?"

"I'll go to the Ministry," he decided. "They'll want to take care of her."

She nodded, and they Disapparated.

xx

Hermione sat alone in her office, holding the still-wrapped package, trying to sense what was enclosed in the paper. She glanced up at the portrait of Dumbledore, then to the newest one, a beautiful image of Minerva McGonagall, her stern face relaxed into a smile.

_I'll be up there someday,_ she thought suddenly, horrorstruck at the thought. _If I was stuck in an eternal sleep, I'd want to be awakened._ Her fingertips, lingering at the strings, pulled them from the paper.

At that moment, Hermione's door swung open, and Harry rushed in.

"Hermione," he greeted her, "you've got to help me."

"What?" Her tone was cold. "Has Cho discovered she's pregnant?"

He looked back at her in shock. "I told her I was sorry," he explained weakly, "and she wouldn't listen..."

"Really?" she exclaimed, in mock surprise. "I would have figured she would have fallen at your feet in forgiveness. After all, you're Harry Potter. She should consider herself lucky to even get to _share_ you."

"Hermione, what's gotten into you?"

"_Me? _You have a wife and child, for God's sake! What in the name of Merlin were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," he said shortly, "and I said I was sorry."

"And of course, one little word fixes the biggest act of betrayal known to man," she said sarcastically.

"Hermione, I--"

A dusty, wise voice filled the room. "Divided you fall."

Hermione and Harry looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing regally in his portrait, eyes twinkling from behind half-moon spectacles, silver shimmer on his purple robes.

"P- Professor Dumbledore," Harry stammered. "I--"

"Yes, Harry, you seem to have gotten yourself into quite a pickle." He paused thoughtfully. "You know, I do miss a good dill pickle. You take so many things for granted while you're living." The old man stared pointedly at Harry, who hung his head.

"And Hermione. I might have known you'd end up here." He bestowed a warm smile upon her, and she blushed, trying to repress a proud smile. "So you married Draco Malfoy?" Clucking his tongue, an amused expression crept across his face. "My, how his father must be rolling in his grave."

Hermione smiled. "He's an Auror now, Professor."

"I know," said Dumbledore, nodding. "And your daughter is an angel, may I say." He turned to Harry. "And really, I turned the shade of a ripe tomato when I found out the name of your son, Harry. I don't deserve a namesake. You're too kind."

"You're the greatest wizard ever, and the man who made the most difference in my life," Harry blurted out. "Of course I was going to name my son after you."

Indeed, Professor Dumbledore's portrait blushed the color of a tomato. "I am touched."

Harry looked at his feet.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I have not awakened to exchange pleasantries. You both know a battle is at hand."

"Can you help us, sir?" Hermione asked, sounding very much like she may have in her third year-- eager, polite, and determined.

"It is my wont to do so," Dumbledore replied, making a small bow. "I only have advice. You must look to your enemies for help. You must remember that love is the most powerful magic of all-- it can help you or hurt you. And--" he smiled-- "you may want to pay attention to anything Sybill Trelawney says in the next few days. It is about time for her to make one of her rare correct predictions; she hasn't done so in years."

Harry laughed, but Hermione frowned. "What do you mean that love can help us or hurt us?" she demanded.

"There are many forms of love, Hermione. You know the good kinds-- your love for Draco, romantic and passionate; your love for your friends, unwavering and pure. But love can also be borne from and based on devotion and obsession, on fear and obligation."

She thought of Kreacher and his love for his mistress, and of Pansy's so-called love for Draco. "So love can be used against us?"

"And for you," Dumbledore said. "You must be careful." Again, his eyes landed on Harry.

"I have to go see Ginny," Harry interjected, and ran from the room.

"I have to owl the Order," Hermione said, half to herself, and began scribbling out notes on parchment.

xx

Later that night, Draco came into the chamber he shared with Hermione, carrying an armload of parchment. "The strangest thing just happened," he said, dumping the scrolls into an empty armchair.

"What's that?" Hermione was immersed in the newest version of _Hogwarts, A History._

"I just ran into Sybill in the hallway. She said something about Percy Weasley betraying his family."

She abruptly shut the book and looked up at her husband. "What did you say?"

"She told me that Percy was going to betray his family, and something about his hands covered with innocent blood. I think she got into her sherry early tonight."

"No," Hermione said quietly, "I think she was actually making a real prediction."

"What?"

"I'll tell you at the meeting."


	30. Chapter 30

"Mrs. Weasley, tell me something."

"Yes, dear?"

"Have you heard from Percy lately?" Hermione's face was level, set.

"Why, no. Not in a long while. Why do you ask?"

"Sybill Trelawney made a prophecy to Draco last night, and Dumbledore told me I ought to believe her." She went on to explain what had happened.

She went white. "I know Percy distanced himself from our family, but to betray us? I can't imagine anyone that close ever--" She broke off, and Hermione knew they were both thinking of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal.

"Kreacher misses this house," came a squeaky voice from behind them. "Poor Kreacher."

A switch clicked in Hermione's brain. "Kreacher," she said slowly, "do you remember everyone who was serving your Mistress at that house?"

Kreacher nodded.

"Have you ever seen a tall, thin, red-headed man at the house?"

His face went purple. "Yes! He got the Dark Mark!" he spat, then clapped two hands over his mouth. "What is Kreacher saying? Kreacher betrays his mistress, poor Mistress..."

"Kreacher, do you remember his name?"

He gasped. "Must not say! Must..." He clamped his mouth shut.

Hermione knelt and gently pried his hands from his mouth. "Kreacher. Remember what she did to you."

Slowly, he turned to Hermione. "P- Percy Weasley," he whispered, his eyes wide.

Mrs. Weasley's lips drew themselves into a thin line. "Bollocks," she barked, and Hermione stared. She'd never heard her swear before. "My son is not a traitor." She turned and marched out of the room.

Kreacher's eyes were mournful. "Kreacher is telling the truth," he said firmly.

"I know," Hermione assured him. "Now come on. We're going to go tell everyone else about what you know. Okay?"

He nodded.

xx

"Mistress is back," said Kreacher hesitantly, addressing the entire Order.

"Walburga Black?" said Mrs. Weasley quietly.

Kreacher nodded.

Alastor's lone eyebrow arched maliciously. "Talk about a bad apple, that one, Black. Woulda killed as many as Voldemort if she'd have gotten the chance... but she's been in hiding, has she, elf?" His magic eye turned on Kreacher. "You've known, haven't you? You've known it all along!"

Narcissa put her hand on her husband's arm. "Let him be, Alastor."

Hermione smiled appreciatively at her mother-in-law. "What else, Kreacher?" Her voice was gentle.

"The other Mistress... she has... a list of people to kill."

"Who's on the list?"

"Harry Potter..."

"No surprise there," scoffed Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at her daughter. "Something wrong, dear?"

Ginny glared across the table at her husband. "Nothing at all, Mum."

"And Draco Malfoy was on the list, and his mother, and... and you, Miss Hermione."

Draco went white. "Why Hermione? And my mother? What have they done?"

"Your mother married an Auror," Kreacher recited, "and Pansy doesn't like Hermione."

"I'll kill her," Draco snarled.

"You can't," Kreacher said, eyes wide. "She's protected now."

"What do you mean?"

"Bellatrix, and Natalya, and Pansy... they made some sort of blood pact... and..."

Narcissa's face turned to stone. "The Trinity of Evil."

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"Something you don't know?" teased Draco. Hermione crinkled her nose at him.

"It's a very ancient magic," Narcissa began slowly. "Sealed by blood, death, and love." She sighed. "My sister was Voldemort's pupil. She inherited his lust for power and immortality. Bella may not have created a Horcrux yet, but through the Trinity, she's unable to die."

"How?" Neville wanted to know.

"There are three members," she explained. "They each give one thing-- blood, death, and love. Obviously Bellatrix and Natalya must be blood and death, and as Bella's been calling herself the Blood Queen, I can guess what she donated. The only one out of the trio that could possibly love is--"

"Pansy," Hermione said shortly.

"Right."

"She doesn't love me," Draco cut in. "She doesn't know what love is."

"Love is a different thing to every person," Narcissa reminded her son. "Pansy may not love in the way that you do. But, doubtless, she believes she is in love with you."

Ginny scowled. "It's nice," she spat, "to know where people stand on those issues."

"Would you leave it already?" Harry snapped. "Do we have to do this here?"

"Oh, you aren't proud of it? Or are you just afraid my brothers will beat you bloody before Bellatrix gets her chance?"

Ron's eyes turned cold. "What did you do to my sister?"

"Ron..."

_"I said, what did you do to her?"_

"Look, this is between Ginny and me, and..."

"Afraid?" Ginny's face lit up. A glint of madness appeared in her eye. "Harry Potter, afraid? Can it be?"

Harry shot a glare at his wife. "Oh, sod off, Ginny. I've apologized already... I said I was a git for what I did and you know I feel awful about it. You have every right to be mad at me. But not this."

"Now you're going to tell me when I can be angry?" said Ginny incredulously. "You're off at St. Mungo's, doing..."

"Look," Harry sighed, "if you want to fight with me, fine. But we're going to do it later. Right now we're having a meeting. And obviously you can't sit here in the same room with me without sending a cheap shot my way every minute. So I'm leaving."

Everyone turned to Ginny for an explanation as Harry marched out of the room, but she simply sat there next to Neville, cold and aloof, completely indifferent.

"This is ridiculous," interjected Fleur. She pushed her chair back. "I am going to owl Madame Maxime. If the English can't get anything done, perhaps the French can." Silver-blonde hair swaying, she followed Harry's path through the kitchen door, nose in the air.

Bill shrugged. "Maybe she can help."

"Typical Phlegm," Ginny muttered, reverting back to her old nickname for Fleur in her aggravation.

"Look," Hermione said, flustered. "I talked to Dumbledore this morning."

A murmur ran through the members of the Order.

"Yes," she continued, "he awoke from sleep this morning. And he told Harry and me several things. One thing he told us was that love can help us or hurt us-- I see what he means now, talking about the Trinity of Evil. He told us to pay attention to a prediction that Sybill Trelawney was going to make, and we found that was true also-- Percy Weasley has joined Bellatrix's ranks."

A collective gasp went up from the Order, and Mrs. Weasley shook her head.

"Git," George spat. "Knew he'd end up on the wrong side of things someday."

Bill shook his head. "How do you know?"

"Kreacher told us," Hermione explained. "He saw him receive the Dark Mark."

Bill's eyes narrowed. "Who did it?"

Hermione turned to Kreacher.

"Sir-- he-- he did it himself," the house-elf said, cowering.

Mrs. Weasley went white as a ghost, and her husband put an arm around her to steady her.

"The third thing Dumbledore said," Hermione continued, after a pause, "was this: 'divided you fall." She looked directly at Ginny. "And if there's one thing I know, it's that his advice must be heeded. So we had better all remember what's important. Because Bellatrix may not be Voldemort, but she's the closest thing there is. We can't underestimate her; we can't overlook her; and we can't defeat her unless we _stick together._"

xx

"Fuckin' hell," swore Ginny in a harsh whisper, as she stubbed her toe on a stair. She yanked her wand out of her pocket. _"Lumos."_

Her wand lit the dark corridor, where every door was closed, people fast asleep in every room. She was on a mission. Neville, she knew, had pined after her since they attended the Yule Ball together in her third year. He recognized that her feelings were for Harry, however, and decided to let her alone. But now, she told herself, she had no feelings for Harry.

"If he can shag that doxy in a hospital bed, I can bloody well shag me a Ministry herbologist," she muttered under her breath, drawing herself up to knock on Neville's door. As she raised her fist, she heard voices, and put her ear to the door to listen.

"I just don't know what to do anymore. It can't get anymore bollocksed-up than it is. I don't know what the bloody hell got into me, Neville, maybe it was stress and... no. I don't have any excuses. I screwed up and now I'm paying the price. I just wish there was some way I could make her understand that I feel like shit for doing this."

"I don't know how you did it in the first place," came Neville's voice. "There are plenty of wizards who'd give their wands up just to have her. She loved you so much she developed tunnel vision towards the rest of us. And you go off with another girl."

"It was a lapse in judgement," Harry snapped. "And don't tell me what I've got. I know what I've got... or, at least, what I had. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. She's all that holds me together sometimes. I..." He paused. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

Ginny felt a small soft spot open in her hardened heart, and pressed her ear right to the door. _What I wouldn't give for a pair of Extendable Ears right now..._

"She's my world, Neville. I don't have a purpose without her."

"Sure you do," Neville told him, trying to sound reassuring. "You're the one who gets called on all the time to save us."

"It means nothing without her by my side," Harry sighed. "I'd give anything to be able to take back what I did."

"Apply for a Time-Turner," Neville suggested helpfully.

"No. What's done is done. I just hope I can make her see that Cho doesn't mean a damn thing to me, that I was a stupid wanker but I'd do anything to make it up to her, and that I'd give my soul to Voldemort himself if it would make her love me again."

Neville said something then that Ginny couldn't make out, but she wasn't listening anymore. "Nox," she whispered sullenly, and drifted back to her room in the dark.

xx

Back at Hogwarts, another figure was making her way down a dark hallway. Mrs. Norris trotted briskly from corridor to corridor, ending up at Filch's door. Mewing loudly, she scratched at his door.

"Mrs. Norris!" Filch exclaimed, gathering his beloved cat in his arms. "Where have you been, love? I've missed you. Here--" he put her on his desk-- "I got the house-elves to make you some of that tuna salad you love so much. Let me see where I've put it--" He turned his back to the cat, searching through cupboards.

The cat leapt from the desk.

"Let's see here... that's last week's bread, is that-- no, just some preserves..."

Slowly, the form of Filch's cat disappeared, and a purple-cloaked woman with a gnarled old wand and a cherrywood staff stood in her place.

"Aha! Here it is, love. Let me just open it up for you--" He turned with a start. "Who are--" His eyes widened. "No. Can't be."

"Filch," she growled.

"Walburga? I thought you were dead!"

"Just before you received a gift of a pretty new cat," she wheezed.

"All this time..." Filch looked horrorstruck.

She raised her wand. _"Avada Kedavra!"_


	31. Chapter 31

"Where did you find him?" asked Hermione.

"In his office," Professor Flitwick answered. "Genevieve Grant got detention and I was going to inform him, and..." He waved his hands at the floor as if to say "There he was."

"There's a murderer in the castle," Hermione sighed, sinking into her chair.

"He had this in his hand," Flitwick remarked, handing over the tin of tuna. "Poor old sot. He loved that cat so much, and he never got to see her again before he died..."

Hermione turned the can in her hand. "Or maybe he did."

Flitwick gave her a quizzical look.

"Search the castle for that cat," she commanded. "Get the whole staff out. Get the students into their dormitories."

"Hermione, what..."

"I think Mrs. Norris is an Animagus," Hermione told him, pulling her wand out. She conjured her Patronus, whispered in its ear, and sent it out the window. Chasing Flitwick out the door, she ran down the hall to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and burst through the door.

"Headmistress," Harry said coolly.

"No time," Hermione warned. "Where's Ginny?"

"At the Ministry," Harry replied. "She and Draco left this morning to report."

"Mrs. Norris is Walburga," Hermione told him. "We're on a search. Get the students to their dormitories."

"She's not here," Harry said tiredly. "Filch has made us search the castle thousands of times."

"Filch is dead," spat Hermione.

The second-years that filled the classroom let out a collective shriek.

"Get them to their dormitories," she repeated, and Harry began rounding up the students as Hermione fled down the hallway.

"All right now, stay calm. Remember what we've been learning-- Expelliarmus. You have the tools to defend yourself. Now, gather in groups according to your Houses, and I'll lead you to your dormitories..."

"Hello," came a quiet voice, and Harry turned to see Cho standing in the doorway. "You haven't been back to visit me."

"Cho, not now," Harry said impatiently. "There's a murdering cat on the loose..." He stopped short, realizing how stupid that must have sounded. "No time. I have to get the students to safety."

Cho immediately snapped into action. "Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, with me, please," she said, and led them on a march out of the room.

~*~

"What's going on?" Draco demanded, as he walked through the doors of the castle.

"Mrs. Norris," Hermione panted, completely frazzled. Her hair was coming out of its ponytail. "She's an Animagus."

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "They said Filch was dead."

Hermione nodded. "We think it's Walburga Black."

"Oh, God. What-- are the students safe?" Ginny blinked at her friend.

"Yeah. We're under control. We just have to find her. I sent my Patronus out for the rest of the Order--"

"Let's start looking," Draco said. "Ginny, you and Hermione take the dungeons... I'm going to wait out at the gate for the rest of the Order. I'll let them know what's going on."

"Alright," Ginny said. "Let's go."

~*~

"Thanks," Harry said, plopping down next to Cho on a bench in the Great Hall.

"No problem," she returned.

An awkward silence ensued. Cho stared at the floor while Harry pretended to be very interested in the loose piece of skin near his fingernail.

"Look," Harry finally said, "I don't mean to hurt you or anything, but we made a huge mistake. I made a huge mistake. I--"

"I know," Cho interrupted. "That's why I came. I don't want to be the other woman." She sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel anything for you, Harry. But I don't want to get between you and Ginny. I won't."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm glad we understand each other."

Cho smiled. "Friends?"

"Friends."

"Let's get looking for that cat," Cho said. "I'll go start in the dungeons. You start looking here."

"Sounds good," Harry said, drawing his wand. "Good luck."

"You too."

~*~

_Crash._ The noise echoed off the cold stone dungeon walls.

Ginny jumped to attention, wand drawn. "Who's there?" she called, on the defensive. "Show your face!"

Cho gingerly stepped around the corner. "Bumped into a terrarium," she explained sheepishly.

Her face clouded. "Shame I didn't just assume you were the enemy," she groused.

"Ginny..."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I have something to say to you," Cho pressed, stepping in front of her. "Look... I'm sorry. I know that doesn't solve anything, and you have every right to hate me for the rest of your life. But Harry loves you. He knows that he did the wrong thing, and he feels awful about it."

"That's not enough."

"I'd be a right side angry if I were you, too. But he really does love you, and I know he'd do anything to have you with him again."

"Glad to have you telling me how I can and should feel, too. Thanks but no thanks." She pushed past the other girl and slammed the door behind her. Sighing, she sat down on a stool and hung her head, thinking of how much she wanted to forgive her husband. But every stubborn Weasley bone in her body pulled at her, made her refuse to let it go.

In her temper, she smashed a large jar on the floor, watching the purple liquid steam and sizzle at her feet. "Where the bloody hell are you, cat?" she shouted. "I want to kill something!"

xx

Meanwhile, Draco stood watch at the gate. Fog began to settle in over the grounds, and he pulled his cloak tightly around him, shivering in the cool night air.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the fog. Draco squinted, trying to get a better look. It was a man, hooded and cloaked, bent as if in pain. "Oi!" Draco called out. "You alright?"

The figure nodded, and continued to make its way up the path. As the person came closer, Draco gasped.

"Crabbe?"

"Malfoy," came the return greeting. "Shit, is it good to see you."

"What's the matter? You looked like you were limping."

Crabbe lifted his head-- his beady eyes glimmered. "You don't know what she's like, Malfoy. She's sadistic. She..." He broke off into a fit of shivers, and struggled to wrap himself in his cloak.

"Here," Draco said, and took off his own cloak, handing it over.

"Thank you," Crabbe said shortly. As he pulled it around himself, his hood tilted, and claret scars stood out against his pale skin.

"What did she do to you?" Draco asked softly.

"Harry's owl. She put me in the closet with it and let the bloody thing claw me to shreds."

Draco paused thoughtfully. Hedwig was so gentle that he and Hermione had allowed Alyssa to play with her when she hadn't even begun walking yet.

Crabbe seemed to sense his uneasiness. "It went mad after being caged and tortured for so long," he quickly explained. "Look, mate. She's mental. We have to stop her."

"You're talking faster now," Draco ventured, suddenly on the defensive. He narrowed his eyes. "You used to be such a fuckwit." Aware of his wand resting in the back pocket of his trousers, he turned to face Crabbe directly. "Do you remember, back in seventh year, when you and Goyle became suspicious of Hermione and me?"

"Of course I remember."

"What was it again that you two thought happened during Divination class?"

Crabbe's eyes widened, and Draco caught a sadistic sparkle in his gaze. He knew that look all too well. As he waited for the answer, he pulled his wand from his pocket.

"Crabbe?"

Both cloaks still clutched around him, he gazed up at the castle. "Salazar Slytherin once lived here," he said vacantly. "One day, his descendant will live here, kill all the Mudbloods, and indoctrinate the students with the right ideas."

"Voldemort's dead. And you still haven't answered my question."

Crabbe pulled a glass flask from the inside pocket of his cloak and hurled it to the ground. The top popped out, and the grey liquid inside seeped into the earth.

When Draco look back up, Crabbe's eyes were wild and his hair had turned jet-black. "You want something done?" His voice went shrill; his lips stretched into a thin line. "Do it yourself." Bellatrix Lestrange stood in front of him. "Hello, nephew." She raised her wand.

_"Stupefy!" _hollered Draco, and tore up the path back to the castle.


	32. Chapter 32

"Ginny, please. Just reason with me..." Cho chased the red-headed girl around the corner. "Ginny!"

"Tramp!" she yelled, pulling out her wand. _"Levicorpus!"_

Draco skidded around the corner. "Ginny!"

Cho dangled helplessly by an ankle in mid-air, her robes falling around her face, showing her black slacks.

"Ginny, put her down."

She sighed. _"Liberacorpus."_

"Bellatrix is on the grounds," Draco told them. "Come on."

A scream sounded from the grounds, and the three of them ran out the door. Following the sound, they came to Harry's doorstep, where Hermione writhed in pain on the ground. Harry, tied fast to the door, struggled in his ropes as he tried to summon his wand.

"Stop!" screamed Draco instinctively. He stuck his arm out. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Bellatrix turned from her torture to laugh at her nephew. "Moon-child," she crowed, "you cannot hurt me now!" She puffed her chest out. "Try it."

He raised an eyebrow and pointed his wand. Panic coursed through his veins. His thoughts turned back to his sixth year and the night in the tower, and how when he faced Dumbledore, he could not kill him. _Perhaps I don't have the strength to kill,_ he thought. The cries of his wife shook him from his reverie. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The curse bounced off Bellatrix and struck a Death Eater, who fell dead to the ground.

"Not so special anymore, are you?" laughed Wormtail.

Harry scowled at him. "I never wanted any of this."

_"Finite incantatem," _Ginny said, having the presence of mind to free Hermione from her torture. She knelt to help her friend up. "Are you alright?"

Dazed, Hermione nodded, and let Harry out of his bounds.

Ginny was about to scold Hermione for freeing Harry when Madam Hooch stepped into the yard. _"Incendio!"_ she howled; her fire glanced off Bellatrix's bodice, and came back at her tenfold, scorching her skin. She fell to the ground. Calmly, Bellatrix stretched out her hand, and the blood from Madame Hooch's limp body floated into the air. Time seemed to freeze as Bellatrix surveyed the scarlet globules. She selected one, and as the single drop of blood hung in the air, the rest of the liquid dropped back to the earth, staining the ground.

During this odd ceremony, the Order had rushed onto the ground. They all watched as the drop of blood sailed through the air toward Bellatrix and absorbed into the bright red jewel that sat in the center of the gold circlet she wore.

Fleur's fair face clouded. "What kind of sorcery is this?" she exclaimed, outraged. From behind her, Bill set a hand on her shoulder.

Bellatrix caressed the jewel as if it were her child, if she was even capable of loving a child. "This gem," said she, "contains a drop of blood from each person I have killed. It will soon hold the blood of what's left of the Malfoy family." She glared down her pointed nose at Fleur. "And I would venture a guess that a drop of your darling little sister's blood is swimming around in there."

Fleur lunged at her, but Draco held her back. "She can't be harmed."

"What do you mean?" shrieked Fleur, outraged. "She wants you dead! She killed my sister! Kill her!"

"No," Draco said. "She's under a protective spell. It's impossible to kill her."

Suddenly she understood. "That spell. That evil."

Draco nodded.

"Then what do we do?"

A grin spread across Bellatrix's gaunt face; she was clearly enjoying their quandary.

Ron shoved his wand into the pocket of his jeans. "Checkmate."

"Don't give up!" Hermione screamed. "There has to be a way."

Alastor shrugged. "We can start by killing off all of her minions," he growled, and pointed his wand at Alecto Carrow. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Alecto fell to the ground, and spells began to fly.

Tonks fired a Stunning spell at Natalya, only to find that it did nothing.

"It's the Trinity, Tonks," Hermione said breathlessly, ducking a jet of light from Goyle. "It's those two and Pansy. They can't be touched."

Walburga glowered at Hermione_. "Avada..."_

_"Stupefy!" _shouted Molly Weasley, knocking her over just in time.

"Oh, Mother," came a voice, at once familiar and unfamiliar to the members of the Order. "What a stupid, stupid thing to do." Percy Weasley emerged from the melee, robed in black.

"Percy." Molly's heartbreak was written all over her face. "So it is true."

"Yes, Mother."

"Why?"

An evil smile spread across his freckled face. "Because, Mother. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it." He raised his wand. _"Sectumsempra!"_

Molly screamed and fell to the ground, covered in gashes. "Percy..." she sobbed.

Arthur Weasley fell to his knees at his wife's side. "Molly. Molly, are you alright?"

She only sobbed harder. "Poppy. Please..."

Her husband nodded. "I'll bring you. Just let me take care of our son." He raised his wand. _"Avada..."_

"Mr. Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed. "You can't kill him! He's your son!"

"He is no son of mine," Arthur said gravelly, cradling his wife.

"You're right, we can't kill him," Ron said. "But we can make him sorry." He turned on his brother. _"Sectumsempra!" _he cried, and watched Percy fall to the ground. Ron advanced on him, glaring down at his bleeding face.

"Ron," Percy began, "you wouldn't... I'm your brother..."

"And she's your mother," Ron said shortly. _"Crucio!"_

Molly went into hysterics. "Ronald!"

"Come on, darling," Arthur said, lifting his wife into his arms.

_"Protego," _Harry offered, sending a shield up over his parents-in-law, and Ginny softened.

"Death," Bellatrix whispered sadistically, and turned to face Draco. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Draco ducked, and just in time, as Bellatrix's spell hit Natalya, but bounced away.

"Cat and mouse, dear Draco," Bellatrix cackled. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Protego!" _Draco called in desperation, and the curse glanced off.

Pansy, who had just taken the Cruciatus Curse off of Percy, turned to see Draco dodging the Killing Curse. "Bellatrix!" she screamed.

Bellatrix turned on her. "Don't interrupt me in my sport, girl!" She fired another curse at Draco, which hit Amycus instead.

Harry thought fast. _"Accio _Invisibility Cloak!" Within seconds, it was in his hand. "Draco!" he yelled, and sent up a Shield Charm to protect himself and his friend from Bellatrix's wrath. _"Muffliato," _he added, then to Draco: "Put it on. You have to hide yourself. She's not going to stop. We'll take care of it."

"I'm not going to be a coward," Draco protested.

"You have to hide, or die," Harry said impatiently. "It's your choice."

Grudgingly, Draco took the cloak and threw it over himself.

Bellatrix fired another Killing Curse into the area, hoping to hit Draco, but hit the ground instead. She turned on Harry. "Foolish," she spat. "I'll enjoy watching you die."

Harry squared his shoulders and prepared himself_. "Contego!"_

"You think I'll let you die that easily?" Bellatrix laughed. "You're going to suffer." She closed her eyes and raised her arms, firing a jet of blue light into the sky.

Ginny shivered. "It's cold."

"Dementors!" cried Narcissa, pointing toward the sky. Sure enough, a host of ragged, fluttering Dementors were quickly filtering in and swirling above Harry's head.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_ Harry yelled, and a few Dementors began to feed off the silvery stag that galloped forth from his wand. It wasn't enough, however, as a rather large one began to perform the Kiss. Harry fell to the ground, and his Patronus disappeared. He gathered his wits. _"Multiexpecto Patronum!"_ The solid Patronus attracted more of the Dementors, but still it wasn't enough.

Suddenly, a silver phoenix appeared in the dark, joining Harry's stag, and the rest of the Dementors began to feed from it. In the blinding light, Harry squinted and saw Ginny, red hair flaming, wand in the air.

Pansy watched this with some awe. She glanced back at Bellatrix, who was firing curses erratically into empty air, searching for Draco, and shivered.

"He's disappeared," Narcissa spat. "You won't find him."

"If I can't kill the son, then I might as well kill the traitor that created him," she replied calmly. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Protego!"_ Narcissa yelped quickly, and the curse bounced off.

In a rage, Alastor raised his wand. _"Cruc--"_

"Your curse will just bounce off," Tonks reminded him.

"There's more than one way to hurt her," he growled; sticking his wand in his belt, he tackled Bellatrix and punched her twice in the face before she knew what was going on. "How do you like that?" he shouted. "Don't you dare hurt my wife! Don't you--"

_"Crucio!" _howled Natalya, blasting him off of Bellatrix.

_"Finite incantatem," _said Narcissa at once.

Natalya glanced at Bellatrix. _"Crucio!" _they chorused, hitting both Narcissa and Alastor at the same time.

_"Finite incantatem!" _came a yell from above, and several Stunning spells followed, knocking out half of the Death Eaters.

Fleur lifted her gaze to the sky, where a winged carriage was coming in for a landing. "Madame Maxime!"

Bill's eyes opened wide. "You're amazing, _cherie_."

"Looks like Phlegm came through," Ginny deadpanned, and Hermione stifled a chuckle.

_"Bonjour," _Fleur greeted her former headmistress. _"Merci beaucoup."_

_"Bien sur," _Madame Maxime replied, and turned on Bellatrix. _"Expelliarmus!"_

_"Non, madame," _said Fleur, "she is protected. We cannot curse her, nor Natalya, nor Pansy!"

Madame Maxime swore under her breath. "How do you propose we beat her then?"

"Nothing can hurt them unless the Trinity is broken," Narcissa said, dodging a Stunning Spell.

"And how can that happen?"

"One of them must die, or perform the spell to break the Trinity." Narcissa shot a Torture Curse at Walburga Black as if it was second nature to do so.

Bellatrix glowered. _"Avada--"_

_"Expelliarmus!" _came Draco's voice, bursting out of hiding.

"Ah, there he is," Bellatrix seethed. _"Accio wand."_

Hermione went white. Ginny immediately put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright," she reassured her friend, and slipped away.

"You," Draco began, glaring at his aunt, "have never been anything more than Voldemort's lap-dog."

"What is he doing?" Harry whispered.

Ron shrugged. "Beats me." He watched the French seventh-years, who were making quick work of the rest of the Death Eaters with Stunning spells and the Incarcerous curse.

"For years you were a slave to him, and when he died, you remained his slave. You'll never be anything else. You'll never be completely free from him. You're still serving him."

"Of course I still serve him!" she raged. "Of course I still carry out his noble work!"

"Noble?" Draco retorted. "Noble? Killing Muggle-borns and seeking revenge on your sister-- who has done nothing more than get remarried-- is noble? You're lost, Bellatrix. Lost. You don't know what you're doing anymore."

Bellatrix's face was pinched, her cheeks red. She raised her wand. _"Crucio!"_

Hermione raised her wand_. "Finite--"_

But Draco's aunt was too quick. _"Vas claustrum!" _she shrieked, and the writhing Draco was imprisoned in a large glass dome.

_"Finite incantatem!" _hollered Hermione, but the spell did nothing but glance off the glass. _"Finite incantatem!"_

An evil grin spread across Bellatrix's sharp features. "Try as you might, girl, you can't reach him."

Hermione's face turned bright red. _"Avada Kedavra!" _she screamed. _"Crucio! Sectumsempra! Imperius! Stupefy!"_

Bellatrix cackled. "You can't hurt me." She raised her wand. "But I can certainly hurt you."

Hermione raised a Shield Charm for herself, deflecting Bellatrix's Cruciatus Curse, and fell to her knees. She saw Draco, his face distorted, squirming in pain-- his screams were audible even through the thick glass.

From the other side of the dome, Pansy beheld the same spectacle-- the screams, the quivers, the obviously intolerable pain. She turned her head and averted her eyes, unable to watch, and found that Ginny Weasley was standing alongside her.

"Pansy," Ginny said gently.

"What do you want?"

"Pansy, look what's happening to him. She's going to torture him into insanity." She was met with silence. "Pansy--"

"Go away."

"I know you love him."

Enraged, Pansy turned on her.

_"Expelliarmus!" _Ginny barked, and caught Pansy's wand. "Now I don't want to hurt you. I just want to eliminate Bellatrix and get on with life." She paused. "Don't let her do this to him."

"He doesn't love me," Pansy said.

"But you love him," Ginny said. "Don't you want to see him live and be happy?" When Pansy didn't reply, she tried another angle. "I'm sure life hasn't been a picnic with her."

Pansy said nothing.

"And she's torturing Draco into insanity," Ginny reminded her. "Come on, Pansy. You're better than this. End it."

"I can't," she said sullenly.

"Yes, you can. You can break the Trinity."

Pansy sighed. "She'll kill me."

"Not if we kill her first." Ginny's face was grim.

Pansy took a long look at Draco, then nodded slowly. "Okay. But I need my wand back."

"Alright." Ginny handed it over.

Holding her wand in the air, Pansy closed her eyes and recited. _"Seal of blood and hate_

_Shall disintegrate;_

_Sisters sealed as three,_

_Sealed no more shall be."_

An explosion of bright red light shot from Pansy's fingertips-- Ginny saw two more bright flames flare up around her. The light shot into the sky, then plummeted into the ground-- driven into the earth at Pansy's feet was a flaming torch, lit with pure white fire.

On the other side of the dome, a red rose stood planted at Bellatrix's feet.

"The Trinity is broken!" Narcissa yelled. _"Expelliarmus!" _she hollered, disarming her sister. Fleur and Neville turned at once.

_"Accio _Bellatrix's wand!" said Harry, and snapped her wand in two.

"For my sister," Fleur said curtly.

Neville joined her. "And my parents."

They exchanged a sidelong glance and raised their wands_. "Avada Kedavra!" _they hollered together, and sent Bellatrix flying to the ground.

The glass around Draco disappeared, and Hermione immediately removed the curse, running to his side. "Are you okay?" she sobbed.

Draco shivered. "Yeah. Is she--"

"Yes," she said, and threw her arms around him. "It's over."


	33. Chapter 33

"So," Harry said tentatively, draping his cloak over a chair.

Ginny shook out her hair. "I saved your life because you're my husband. I'm not going to forget what you did that easily."

"I know." He sighed, watching her put a pot of tea on. "What can I do?"

Ginny sighed. Her hand gripped the wooden handle of the teapot.

"Anything," he pressed, coming closer to her, setting a pleading hand on her shoulder.

She felt herself melt under the pressure of his fingertips and spun around into his arms, sobbing. "Just don't ever do that to me again!" she wailed, sobbing. "Thinking you might love someone else... it killed me. Don't ever, ever..." She trailed off.

"Never," Harry assured her. "I love you so much, Gin... and only you."

She buried her head in his shoulder. "I love you too."

Harry held her tightly while she dried her tears on her sleeve. "I can't believe what happened out there tonight," she said at last.

"I know. I can't believe we all made it out alive."

"Well, that, but Fleur and Neville."

"Yeah," Harry mused. "Poetic justice at its best."

Ginny smiled. "I'm just happy that--" She jumped. "Did you hear that scream?" She pulled her wand from her pocket.

A smile spread slowly across Harry's face. "Ginny."

"What?"

"Gin, well... Hermione and Draco are in the next room."

She dropped her arm. "Dammit," she laughed, "you'd think they'd at least put a spell on the walls..."

Harry shrugged. "They probably forgot. You know, they both escaped torture and death tonight." He put his arms around her.

"Well, you know, so did we..." Ginny lifted her eyes.

He pulled her closer. "What are you hinting at?"

"Let's..." A giggle escaped from her lips and she squirmed in his embrace. "Let's give them a run for their money."

"You're scandalous!" Harry said in mock horror, taking her hands.

They fell over onto the bed together. "Oh, you know I can make more noise than that," Ginny told him playfully.

"Only if I make you," he growled, kneeling over her.

She giggled. "C'mon, Harry Potter. I've missed you." Eagerly, she reached for the zipper on her husband's sweatshirt and pulled it off.

"Oh, Gin--" He leaned down and breathed in the scent of her perfume: champagne and apples, the same familiar scent he'd been coming home to for years.

Another shrill scream bounced off the walls, and Ginny grabbed for her wand, muttering a spell under her breath. The noises from next door fell silent.

"Now," Ginny began, "we--"

Harry grabbed her fiercely and pressed his lips to hers.


	34. Chapter 34

Hermione nodded curtly at Cho, who unlocked the gates of Azkaban prison and led Draco and his wife inside.

"They've all been captured, then?" Hermione ventured.

Cho nodded. "Those that didn't die are here."

"Take us to them. I want to speak with Natalya."

Cho brought them down a long corridor. They passed Peter Pettigrew, scavenging in the corner for scraps of food, much like a rat. "Just like always," scoffed Draco. They passed Crabbe and Goyle, taciturn and brooding, and Dolohov and Nott, wearing twin expressions of disappointment and hate.

"Draco," said Pansy softly as they passed, and Hermione stopped.

Her eyes were large and mournful as she reached slender fingers through the bars. "Draco. Are you alright?"

He softened. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Hermione's heart went out. "Cho, you don't think... I mean, she did break the Trinity. She's the reason why we came out on top, after all,"

"You know she's weak," Cho whispered. "If--"

"Bellatrix is dead. She's not under a spell anymore."

Cho sighed. "I suppose..." She unhooked her keys from her belt, selected one, and stuck it in the lock.

"Are you--" Pansy's face was aghast.

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the girl's frail hand. "I trust that you'll do the right thing this time."

Pansy nodded. Her gaze drifted to Draco, and back to Hermione. "I will." She floated right down the hallway and out the front doors.

Cho led them past Percy, looking disheveled, and to Natalya's cell.

"You have visitors," Cho spat.

Natalya rose from her seat on the cold floor. "What do you want?" she hissed.

Hermione squared her shoulders. "You were next in line, weren't you?"

"All the while," she replied with a hard glare.

"Voldemort trained you right along with Bellatrix."

"Not at the same time-- but yes." Her red eyes glowed defiantly.

"With you, it dies."

"Quite. If you manage to kill me."

Draco stared her down. "You're in Azkaban prison, and I have the entire force of Aurors at my call."

Natalya stepped closer to them, twisting her ghostly white fingers around the cold bars. "You know-- the heir of Slytherin still exists."

"Voldemort is dead," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Yes he is."

"Then how is there a--"

"Voldemort had a child!" shrieked Natalya. "A daughter."

Hermione shook her head and turned to Cho. "Get Veritaserum. I don't believe her."

"I'm telling the truth!" Natalya's eyes flared up, and she shook the iron keeping her back.

_"Accio Veritaserum," _Cho said lazily, and a tiny bottle flew into her outstretched hand. She Apparated into the cell, and made to force her mouth open.

"I'll take it!" hollered Natalya. "I'll take it, you don't have to force me. I told her I'm telling the truth." She seized the bottle from Cho and downed the potion.

Cho Apparated back out of the cell, and turned to Hermione as if to say "She's all yours."

"Does Voldemort have a child?"

Natalya flashed an evil grin. "Yes."

"Who?"

She said nothing.

"Who?"

Natalya took her fingers from the bars and gave a little wave.

"You wil tell me--"

And with that, Natalya transformed into a great caped lizard and darted out of her cell, disappearing in an instant.

"Have you ever heard of a double Animagus?" Draco cleared his throat.

Hermione shook her head, eyes wide.

"Start a search," Cho said. She stalked off, leaving Draco and Hermione starting at each other, awed.


End file.
